Bereshit (Genesis)

Genesis 1:1-6:8

Once again, Jews of all denominations have started the cycle of the Torah reading afresh. We have returned back to the beginning, to our most cherished text's description of the creation of the world and of humanity. As we reopen the Torah again, we ask ourselves the question; what is this book? It isn't just stories and mythology, though it certainly has that element. Neither is it a book of laws alone, though it contains many ancient laws. It certainly doesn't read like a work of theology, although it has many theological implications. Indeed, we revere this text as a source of wisdom and holiness despite the fact that scientifically educated readers would not recognize what we read this week as an accurate depiction of our origins. What draws us back to it year after year? Is it merely that we are mimicking our parents and grandparents, as we say, minhag avoteinu b'yadeinu (a custom of our ancestors in our hands)? Or is there something spiritually substantive to the often confusing language that our most sacred text provides?

If we were to follow the late, revered Rabbi J.B. Soloveitchik's lead in his The Lonely Man of Faith, we would see in the account of creation distinct presentations of the origins of human beings, each depicting a separate archetype of the human personality. In fact, as a colleague of mine from rabbinical school pointed out, there are three accounts of the origins of human beings if you include the beginning of Genesis 5, "These are the generations of Adam." I believe we can also follow the lead of our Sages who found in these accounts different theological descriptions of God. Rashi, referring to a Rabbinic midrash, comments that the name of God used in the creation account of the first chapter is Elohim, whereas in the story of gan eden, the Garden of Eden, the text appends the four-letter name of God before Elohim. He suggests that the reason for the dual stories and the use of different divine names - signifying different divine attributes -- is that the first plan was to create the world with strict divine justice, but seeing that the world could not last, God created it first with divine mercy. Our tradition understands that the differences between the names in the stories reflect important differences in understanding God and the place of humanity in creation.

Turning our attention to the text, we can see some of the differences more clearly. God in the first story is "divinely efficient." God states "let there be light," and without delay there is light. Comparing verse 1:11 to 2:5, we see that in one, the Torah describes God having made a single statement saying "let the land sprout vegetation" and ends with "and it was so." In the other, the Torah explains that the reason there was no vegetation was that God "had not yet sent rain on the land, and there was no human to work the earth." The God of the first story needs no intermediate steps while the God of the second story seems less efficient. Indeed, the very verbs used to describe God's actions in the garden are more varied and numerous in fewer verses, with fewer results.

A corollary of this difference is that God in the garden is more detail-oriented. In the garden, God creates a specific garden, with a specific tree and specific bodies of water for one specific human being to work in. Each verb describes a particular detail of the creation of these singular items.

Perhaps the most intriguing difference is one of effectiveness. The Seven Days story has a God who creates by fiat and it is all "good." In the garden, the juxtaposition is striking. Suddenly, it is "not good for Adam to be alone." What's more, God's first attempt at solving the problem, namely the creation of creatures from the earth, the same source Adam came from, failed to produce a suitable companion. This hardly sounds like the same God described a chapter earlier.

In the first few chapters we clearly see that our Torah is neither a science text book nor a theological dissertation. Instead, it presents in the language of mythology varying ways in which human beings encounter God. We may see ourselves as the pinnacle of the creation of a distant yet all-powerful deity, or we may be partners with a God who is palpable in our lives, but in a world that is far from perfect with the possibility of "good and evil." What's more, if we include the creation story of chapter five, God could be an important starting point for an otherwise essentially human story. I believe that this diversity of versions demonstrates that different human beings have different perspectives on God's world and our place in it, and our Torah provides a means to encounter this truly human reality.

Prepared by David Almog, rabbi, Hillel at Columbia University and Barnard College.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Bereshit at MyJewishLearning.com.

Parshat Bereshit begins the Torah by detailing the creation of the world, describing the timing and substance of each step of creation with extreme care. Each element of creation begins with God's direction and then highlights that the action was completed. "God said 'let there be light', and there was light" (Genesis 1:3), etc. God created the entire universe with His voice, except for humans, whom God formed in His own image from the dust of the earth and a breath of divine spirit to provide life. God gives humans reign over all other creations. Man would have eternal life and endless Shabbat in the Garden of Eden with a single caveat: do not eat from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. We all know what happens next, the serpent (understood by many as a representation of our Yetzer HaRah, the evil inclination) tempts Eve to eat from the forbidden fruit. Eve feeds the fruit to Adam and they became aware of their nakedness. God commanded the first man and woman to perform just a single mitzvah, commandment - not to eat the fruit -- and they break that mitzvah within the same day.

Throughout the parsha, people repeatedly use the gift of speech - that selfsame action that God used to create the universe - in a non-productive way, making excuses and not holding themselves accountable for their actions. For example, instead of appreciating Eve, Adam blames Eve (Genesis 3:12 - "The woman whom you gave to be with me - she gave me of the tree, and I ate"). Similarly, after the sin of eating the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, Eve blames the snake (Genesis 3:13 - "The serpent deceived me, and I ate"). Then later, Cain refuses to address God's question about Abel after Cain murders him (Genesis 4:9 - "Am I my brother's keeper?"). We can learn much about human nature from these events, namely that it is so easy for us to fall into the habit of Lashon HaRah, evil speech, rather than to positive speech.

There is a stark dichotomy between the creative force of God's voice and the destructive force of Lashon HaRah. Our sages teach that in His image relates to the attribute of choice over our actions and our ability to communicate. While we should choose to use our voices in creative and not destructive ways, our evil inclination is crafty and helps us find the wrong ways to communicate. Our sages state that one who profanes the sacred (e.g., embarrasses his friend publicly) denies his share in the World to Come (Pirke Avot 3:11). God made man in His image (Genesis 1:26) and each person is therefore a sacred image of God. To criticize, neglect or otherwise harm another person is to act destructively toward God's creation and thereby to God himself. For example, sarcasm is a way of life for many of us and is a very selfish form of communication. Sarcasm makes others feel as if they are somehow less than they should be. It is demeaning and potentially demoralizing, yet it has become a standard mode of communication in our culture.

We have made it through the Asseret Y'Mei Teshuva (Ten Days of Awe) and are moving forward into the new year. I hope that we will each merit blessing this year of spiritual growth and positive experiences, and that we will use this next phase of creation to perfect ourselves and our world through acts of kindness toward others and the elimination of evil speech.

Written by Ron Mizrahi, Associate IT Director of Hillel's Charles and Lynn Schusterman International Center

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Bereshit at MyJewishLearning.com.

The opening portion of the Torah, at first glance, seems like a gripping movie with too many subplots. In just six chapters, we witness the six days of creation, the debut of Shabbat, the narrative of the Garden of Eden - including man's first sin and its dire consequences - and the story of Cain and Abel.

These snapshots are expertly linked, however, with the common thread of one of the most profound verses in the Torah: "And God created man in His own image; in the image of God He created him." Many interpret this line to suggest that man, unlike other animals, possesses free will, morality and the ability to reason.

There is no story that demonstrates the nature and ramifications of free will as starkly as the story of Adam and Eve and the Garden of Eden. Adam and Eve, the first humans on earth, are given the freedom to choose between good and evil. Almost immediately, they make the "evil" choice by eating the forbidden fruit from a certain tree.

By making this choice, Adam and Eve change the nature of human life forever. Suddenly they are no longer "perfect" and are cast out of the Garden of Eden and into a world filled with struggle and pain.

This new "world" that exists after the sin is dramatically different. Adam and Eve are now faced with the burden of "toiling," the pains of childbirth, and the decree "by the sweat of your brow shall you eat your bread." They transform from pure, unadulterated images of God to nothing but "dust," with the understanding that "unto dust you shall return."

The distinction between these two "worlds" has powerful implications for our life's mission and our opportunities for leadership.

There is a Hasidic teaching that suggests there are two approaches to leadership, two different ways to elevate one's surroundings: from above or from within. One type of leader might lead from above, in saintly isolation, by inspiring others to reach his or her level. Such a leader might try to create a model society to motivate others to emulate this model.

An entirely different type of leader might try to lead from within by reaching others on their level - by speaking their language and understanding who they are. This leader might adopt the lifestyle or traditions of his or her people in order to effect necessary change.

The difference between these two leadership styles, according to Hasidic teaching, is similar to the distinction between the nature of life before and after man's first sin. Before the sin, man was considered perfect and lived in a perfect world. This world, it seems, was the model society that acted as a "light unto others." Once God subjected Adam and Eve to a different, more difficult lifestyle, they were "exiled" to another world where they had to struggle to survive.

The nature of man, as defined by his creation in the image of God, includes both elements. Man has the potential to emulate God's various characteristics but also has the free will to sin and disappoint God. God, as our ultimate leader, employs both styles of leadership. He exists in saintly seclusion and inspires us to reach his level but also enters our world every day and affects our mundane lives.

Those of us in the Hillel world are constantly faced with different approaches to leadership. While attempting to affect the lives of our thousands of students, we can either work from "above" and inspire our students to reach our level of Jewish appreciation, or we can work from within by speaking their language and relating to them as peers.

Prepared by Naomi Korb, Bronfman fellow.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Bereshit at MyJewishLearning.com.

Jewish tradition teaches that "kol hatchalot kashot/all beginnings are hard" (Midrash Mechilta). We might well then expect that the Torah's first weekly section, (Parshat Bereshit) would recount the difficulties of the beginning of beginnings, the first beginning, the act of creation. This week's text is filled with mystery and challenges, especially on a campus environment. The parsha raises as many questions as it gives answers and often seems to teach us by what it chooses not to reveal rather than by what it does reveal. It is a parsha that speaks to and about people who are at the junction of faith and history, of science and future promise. The Hebrew text is so pregnant with meaning that it can fill whole libraries dedicated to speculation, Midrashic thought and interpretation.

It seems only fitting that in a section dealing with beginnings we address the text's very beginning. The first verse in Parshat Bereshit appears to be straightforward. It reads:

Genesis 1:1
"Bereshit bara Elokim et ha'shmayim v'et ha'aretz".

This verse contains no more than 6 (or if you count the conjunctive vet as a word, 7) words. Yet once again the beginning is hard. Scholars have long argued over how to translate the first word of the first verse. The text is often translated as "In the beginning G-d created the heaven(s) and the earth" or even "when G-d began to create the heavens and the earth". What then appears to be a simple phrase may not be so simple. The word "bereshit" is commonly assumed to be in the "smichut" or genitive case: thus we would translate it as "In the beginning of - what? The absence of a noun has forced Bible scholars to ask: What was there before creation? If there were nothing, from what would G-d have formed the something? Why is the verb "barah" (to create out of nothing) in the past tense rather than in some other tense? Does this mean that G-d finished creation? Some Kabbalists found a way around this problem by seeing the nothing as the "ayin" or verbal gerund form of "there-being-nothingness" and the something as the "yesh" or gerundive form of "there being-ness". These are concepts best understood in quantum mechanics or higher forms of physical mathematics.

Your Genesis Navigator
1. The rabbis teach us that the letter bet, which is open on one side and closed on the other side, is the first letter in the Torah as a reminder that we should not look up nor down nor back, but only forward, from creation onward. What scared them?
2. Is creation an ongoing process or a completed process? If it is completed, might the discoveries of creation be ongoing?
3. Might God have created several worlds in several dimensions at the same time? Thus we who live in a three dimensional world are unaware of other creations that may be for example, four of five dimensional?
4. If the statement "All beginnings are hard" is true? How was creation hard for God? What does our view of creation tell us about ourselves?
5. How does the idea of a verbal nothing-ness, something-ness help us to understand our students better?

A Word
Many of these same questions intrigued our classical commentators. For example, "Sefer Ha'Agadah" quotes Rabbi Samuel be Rabbi Isaac as saying that the "thought of creating Israel preceded all else". In other words, thought precedes action. As such, we are forced to ask the question "how does G-d think?" Does thinking define life? If so, how does a baby think without the gift of language? How do animals think?

When seen from this perspective, Bereshit becomes a series of challenges. Each act of creation forces us to join faith to philosophy. It is a text, like the new academic year that teaches us to question and to believe.

In next week's parsha, Noah, we see that even G-d wondered if creation had been such a good idea, when God brings the flood that nearly destroys the entire world. The message then may be, that none of us should ever be too sure of ourselves, that creation once done can be a double-edged sword. All beginnings are hard, but as Pirke Avot teaches: "It is not incumbent upon you to finish the task, but neither are you free to desist from doing it."

Prepared by Rabbi Peter Tarlow, Director, Texas A&M Hillel.

With the help of Rivka's cunning, Yaacov has successfully usurped Esav's blessing. Isaac has either been duped or is pretending to be fooled for Esav's benefit. Meanwhile Esav is demanding to be blessed, even if it means receiving the "consolation bracha".

Read the blessing Isaac gives to Esav carefully. (You'll find it in the final paragraph.) Do any questions emerge?

Genesis 27:34-39

When Esav heard the words of his father, he cried out with a very great and bitter cry, and said to his father: Bless me, me also, father! He said: Your brother came with deceit and took away your blessing. He said: Is that why his name was called Yaakov/Heel-Sneak? For he has now sneaked against me twice: My firstborn-right he took, and now he has taken my blessing
And he said: Haven't you reserved a blessing for me? Yitzhak answered, saying to Esav: Here, I have made him master to you, and all his brothers I have given him as servants, with grain and new-wine I have invested him. So for you, what then can I do, my son? Esav said to his father: Have you only a single blessing, father? Bless me, me also, father! And Esav lifted up his voice and wept.

Then Yitzhak his father answered, saying to him: Behold, from the fat of the earth must be your dwelling-place, from the dew of the heavens above. You will live by your sword, you will serve your brother. But it will be that when you brandish it, you will tear his yoke from your neck.

Your Torah Navigator

1. How does "living by the sword" fit with "serving your brother"?
2. The last line of the blessing "But it will be that when you brandish it, you will tear his yoke from your neck." What does this mean within the context of the blessing? Does it make sense?

From The Perspective Of Nachmanides (The Ramban)

The Torah teaches that Esav is the parent of Edom and rabbinic tradition views the Roman Empire as the heirs of Edom. Rome represents the historic and the still present "oppressor" both from a cultural and political perspective.

Nachmanides lived in 12th century Christian Spain. Christian Spain was part of the Roman Catholic Church and was also considered to be the spiritual heir of Rome and Edom. He interprets the phrase "when you brandish it you will tear his yoke from your neck" as follows:

"When you brandish it (your sword)"-- in the way that you speak, this comes to warn Israel that you should not excessively incite them and plan to do them harm. For then his yoke will be broken and it will fall upon your neck. This is the meaning of the verses (in Deuteronomy 2:4-5)

"And as for the people, command (them), saying: You are (about) to cross the territory of your brothers, the Children of Esav, who are settled in Se'ir. Though they are afraid of you, take exceeding care! Do not stir yourselves up against them, For I will not give you of their land so much as the sole of a foot can tread on..."

A Word

Even when it is promised that Esav will serve his brother Yaacov, Nachmanides notices that it is not clear what "serving" means. Esav still lives by the sword from the fat of the land and the dews of the heaven. Later on, Israel is warned not to tread on Esav's land for it does not belong to Israel. How does the blessing come to pass?

By default all minority cultures in some fashion or other serve the dominant culture. When Israel becomes the master of the community calendar, and becomes the dominant community, she may not use this advantage to intimidate and tyrannize her minority communities. Nachmanides sees this warning to Yaacov within the blessing of Esav.

This is all the more remarkable when we consider that Nachmanides was expelled from Spain because of anti-Jewish sentiment and spent his last years in Israel. It was not vengeance he looked for, but a higher moral purpose for Yaacov when he would finally be the majority culture and thus necessarily be served by his brothers.

The first two chapters of Bereshit (Genesis) give us a picture of the world as it is first created. It is new, perfect, and full of promise. Yet once human beings are created, problems occur as we face our humanity, our mortality, our modesty, and our relationship with God.

Oh Adam and Eve, Eden was so great. And then you had to go and ruin it for all of us....

Bereshit 3:6-10

When the woman saw that the tree was good for eating and a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was desirable as a source of wisdom, she took of its fruit and ate. She also gave some to her husband, and he ate. Then the eyes of both of them were opened and they perceived that they were naked. And they sewed together fig leaves and made themselves loincloths.

They heard the sound of YHWH, God, moving about in the garden at the breezy-time of day. And the man and his wife hid themselves from the face of YHWH, God among the trees of the garden. YHWH God called out to the man and said to him, "Where are you?" He replied, "I heard the sound of You in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked, so I hid."

Your Parsha Navigator

1. What happened when the man and woman ate the fruit?
2. At what cost did we achieve wisdom?
3. What does "the sound of God moving about the garden" sound like?
4. Is it possible to hide from God?
5. Why does God ask the man (Adam) where he is? Shouldn't God already know where Adam is?
6. Was it good or bad to eat the fruit (the apple)?

We have heard this story many times. Yet, questions remain. Can one hide from God? And why is God looking for Adam? The Midrash seeks to address these points.

Bereshit Rabbah 19:8-9

"And the man and his wife hid themselves... amongst the trees of the garden." Rabbi Ibo said, "His stature shrank to a hundred cubits."

"Amongst the trees (eitz) of the Garden." Rabbi Levi said, "This was a sign for his descendants, that they would be placed within wooden (eitz) coffins."

"And YHWH, God called to the man and said, "Where are you (Ayeckah)?" (3:8) "How (eich) you have fallen! Yesterday... you extended from one end of the world to the other, whereas now (you can hide) among the trees of the garden!"

Your Midrash Navigator

1. According to Rabbi Ibo, Adam and Eve were once larger than the trees. Then they shrank to the size of the trees. According to these rabbis, what does sin do to a person?
2. By the use of what wordplay does Rabbi Levi infer that Adam's descendants will be placed in wooden coffins?
3. How does Adam's status change as a result?
4. How does Adam's behavior parallel our own behaviors?

A Word
At the very beginning, the first man and woman were larger than the trees. Then they shrank to the size of the trees. Through their own actions, they made themselves small. Adam was immortal. And yet, through his own actions, he made himself mortal.

Their actions are relevant today. We also do these destructive things to ourselves. By our own actions, our mistakes, and decisions, we, too, make ourselves small and mortal. And as God walks among the trees, God says to all of us, "Where are we?" And how are we? Now is the time for each of us to awaken ourselves to the elaborate system of hideouts we have created for ourselves. What are we hiding from?

And finally, one last word:
For two and a half years, the House of Shammai and the House of Hillel were arguing. The House of Shammai argued that "It would have been better if human beings had not been created." The House of Hillel disagreed saying, "Better that humanity was created than that humanity had not been created." They concluded that it would have been better if man had not been created but, now that he has been created, let him examine his past deeds. (Eruvin 13b)

Shabbat Shalom.

With the recognition that, as Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz has popularized, "Let my people know" is both a right and a responsibility, we thought that this inaugural-collaborative D'var Torah was a rightly responsible, and pretty neat undertaking. Our tradition employs a telling phrase for one who is lettered and a scholar. The term is "Talmid Chacham" and means much more that erudite. A "talmid" is a student and a "chacham" is a person of wisdom and teaching.

Our endeavor is born from this fundamental recognition that every teacher has to be a student and every student has to be a teacher. In that spirit, we are proud to initiate what we call "Du"vrei Torah, as it is born out of the joint searching and struggling of the two of us [the Talmud uses the Aramaic form "du" for "two"]. And doesn't our Talmud teach us the Jewish version of Patrick Henry: "Oh Chavruta, Oh Mee-Two-Ta"..."Give me a study partner or give me death!?"

Parashat Vayishlach finds Ya'akov approaching the borders of Eretz Canaan (Israel) on his return from Padan Aram, and his Uncle Lavan's home. Ya'akov is overcome with fear and anxiety over the imminent reunion with his brother Eisav. If you recall, Ya'akov had left home thirty-four years earlier fleeing from Eisav, after he received the latter's b'rachot (blessings). Now after the birth of Yosef, the time had come return home, which of course meant confronting his angry brother on his way.

After sending flocks of his ahead as tribute to appease Eisav and placing his family and possessions on the other side of a stream called the Yabbok for safety, Ya'akov was left alone for one night which he spent wrestling with a "man" until the break of dawn. This strange man, whom the Rabbi's explain to be an angel, breaks the stalemate with Ya'akov by offering Ya'akov a blessing, revealing that no longer will Ya'akov be his name but rather Yisroel. The angel did not have the authority to rename Ya'akov, nor was the name change to take effect immediately. The angel merely divulged to Ya'akov what G-d himself would do later (35:15).

When G-d does get around to bestowing the name Yisroel upon Ya'akov, the phraseology used mirrors that of another name change that we read only a few weeks ago in Lech Lecha where Avram becomes Avraham.

Although the formula is the same in both cases, there is a dramatic difference which must be addressed. The Talmud teaches us that, after Avram's name change, it is a violation of a principle of the Torah to revert back to calling him by that original name (B'rachot 13a).

Whereas with Ya'akov, we find no such principle. In fact, even the Torah does not abandon the name, using both Yisroel and Ya'akov (though not interchangeably).

This leads us to the question then, what exactly is in a name? Obviously assigning names holds some cosmic significance since giving names to all the creatures on the earth is the first recorded activity of man (B'reishit 2:20). The Or HaChaim teaches us that each name represents a soul. In this light (pun intended), the causative nature of a name is revealed: a name is a representation, a function, and carries with it personality traits. The Hebrew word for "name," spelled "Shin, Mem" contains the same letters as the Hebrew word for "put," suggesting that names place upon us the very nature of our beings.

Avraham received his new name after shedding the people and land from which he came and entering into a covenant with G-d. In a sense, Avraham had taken on a new life and a new purpose, breaking clean from the ways of his ancestors. We do not continue to use the name Avram because it is a throwback to a different man.

The names Ya'akov and Yisroel are not contradictory: they refer to a duality of personality within the same body. Ya'akov is timid and bookish, a student of tradition. When confronted with the angel though, he does not turn "heel," but rises above his natural inclination and confronts the crisis. He becomes Yisroel, the "struggler," demonstrating the strength necessary to protect his family and ensure the future of his lineage.

The name Yisroel can be interpreted as standing for the collective consciousness of the Jewish people passed to us from the Matriarchs and Patriarchs. In Hebrew Yisroel is spelled: Yud (for Yitzach and Ya'akov), Shin (for Sarah), Reish (for Rivkah and Rachel), Aleph (for Avraham), Lamed (for Leah). We are called the children of Israel; we are a link in this chain, both recipients and contributors to the wealth of our people.

How though are we to understand Ya'akov's seeming schizophrenia? How can two personalities exist in the same body? Rabbi Joseph Dov Soloveitchik gives us a beautiful insight into the matter. The nature of man is to be multifaceted and it is our challenge, not to be victims of these different personalities, but to use them. We need to know when to be Ya'akov and when to be Yisroel.

With regard to the magical Hillel work in which we are all involved, we must learn how to be campus chameleons: changing the shades of our personalities in order to create Jewish opportunities for students. Whether we are engaging, empowering, advising or teaching, our work is all about personal interaction. In order to make the most out of our relationships with students we must "be ourselves," but at the same time be conscious of the part of our "self" which we are presenting. If we strive to grasp this insight and incorporate the dual teaching of Ya'akov/Yisroel, then truly, and literally, we can affirm the words of our Sages that, "Ya'akov Avinu lo meit," father Jacob did not die(Ta' anit 5b): He will live in us all.

Talmud: The corpus of oral law codified in approx. 500 CE that encompasses the living record of the Jewish generational dialogue from 200 BCE through 500CE.

B'rachot: The first tractate of the 63 tractates of oral law.

Or HaChaim (1696-1743): Moroccan Biblical scholar and Kabbalist. Founded Yeshiva

OrHaChaim in Jerusalem in 1741. Published popular commentary to Torah.

Rabbi J.B. Soloveitchik (1903-1993): Preeminent teacher of the Jewish people for half a century. Religious philosopher, leading Halachist and Talmudist of the twentieth century. Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshiva University, New York.

Ta'anit: The twentieth tractate of the oral law.

Prepared by Rabbi David Gutterman and Geoffrey Menkowitz, Rutgers University Hillel.

It's a veritable tale of two cities. As the famed theologian Tertullian wrote,"what does Athens have to do with Jerusalem?" One the city of the Parthenon, the other, the city of the Kotel. The former the city of Homer with its panoply of gods, the latter, the city of Hillel with its profession of one G-d. What happens when the two meet? Even better, what happens when the discrete agendas clash and the differing value systems come in conflict? Answer; Chanukah happens!

If we put this holiday into a context, we will discern a fundamental truth. Chanukah is only one of two rabbinically ordained holidays that have been preserved since their historic inception. Our Talmudic tradition records that there were a host of rabbinically declared holidays during the time of the Second Temple era, yet, they are no longer on the books. Obviously the message of Chanukah is so crucial that it retains its full force in our lives.

When the Talmud (B.Shabbat 21b) speaks of this holiday we are shocked to learn that it introduces the discussion with these two words: "Mai Chanukah, what is Chanukah?" A rather perplexing question given its significance. Rashi (1040-1105) the father of all exegetes, is more explicit. The Talmud, says Rashi, is asking the following question: What was the Miracle of Chanukah? The question takes on even more significance in its fuller context. The other rabbinic holiday on the books is Purim, yet, no where do we find the Talmudic sages asking this question with regards to Purim.

If we grasped the essential difference between Purim and Chanukah, then I believe we would garner a penetrating and relevant insight. During the Purim epoch (350BCE), it was clear who the enemy was and what his agenda was. The Jewish body was in danger, in short, the Jewish person was in jeopardy. (Genocide)

A lot transpired in the ensuing 200 years. The Greek epoch was not a struggle to eradicate the Jewish body, it was an attempt to alienate the Jewish soul. It wasn't the Jewish person who was in jeopardy, it was the Jewish purpose. (Genesis-cide, to coin a phrase). It was a struggle for the soul. If you think we have magnificently evolved in these 2,000 years, may I remind you of the Southern Baptists call to missionary arms.

Chanukah would not have been a holiday if only we assimilated. But, thank G- d, (the G-d of Abraham, not Athena, that is), Chanukah is a holiday because it was a victory of the spiritual values and ideals of being..DIFFERENT...not to succumb to prevailing fads and vogues, not to acquiesce to foreign values; to dare to be different, to dare to be...OURSELVES. And this, though a miracle worthy of a holiday, is a mandate worthy of our attention.

So the only thing we need to assimilate is this thought. Yes, in an age where homogenization is lauded and differences are downplayed, making Kiddush-sanctifying is important in our lives; making Havdala-preserving our uniqueness, equally so. And did not the illustrious founder of the Daf Yomi concept, Rabbi Meir Shapiro point out that the first activity that the Torah imputes to the Creator is "Vayavdale Elokim, and He separated!"

Hillel-ism is to be embraced, not Hellen-ism. Chanukah declares that the Jewish soul and purpose must, and will survive. The Jewish flame will not be extinguished. All we have to do is to light-one candle at a time-just for the Hillel of it!

Y'hi ratzon shenizkeh l'mosif v'holeich k'da'at Beit HILLEL.

Chag Sameach.

Prepared by Rabbi David Gutterman, Rutgers University Hillel.

Like the story of Noah and the flood, the story of Hurricane Katrina is one of great tragedy, but also one of great opportunity. Countless cultures of the world tell stories of a significant flood and now New Orleans has a similar story to share.

Parshat Noach tells the story of God's decision to flood the earth. Everyone from the Jewish scholar to the college freshman struggles with the question of why this happened. I myself, an eight-year resident of New Orleans, as well as the Tulane freshmen who came to New Orleans one day before Katrina, struggle with a similar "Why?" - Why the hurricane? Why the flood waters? Why come back to New Orleans to rebuild the city and rebuild the Jewish community?

The story of Noah indicates that God looked down unto the earth and felt that people were destroying the world with corruption, selfishness and evildoing. In all the land of Earth, God found only one righteous person, Noah. So God decided to destroy the people of the earth, to cleanse the earth of all that was evil, and start anew, sparing only Noah, his family, and the animals of the world. After the flood ceased and the waters receded, God made a covenant with Noah that he would never again destroy the world with flood waters. As a promise to Noah, God put a rainbow in the sky. Soon human life and animal life increased all throughout the world.

Rabbi Irving Greenberg, in his book The Jewish Way suggests that the essence of the covenant between humans and God is that it relies on a partnership. Rather than passively accepting God's protection, "God summons humanity to participate in the process of creating a redeemed world. Each partner enters into this treaty of total redemption; each brings a pledge to this binding covenant."

Similar to the story of Noah, hurricanes Katrina and Rita swept through New Orleans, breaking the levees and flooding most of the city. Much of the city and the surrounding areas were completely destroyed. Much like Noah waited for the flood waters to recede, so did I, and so did the students of Tulane, Loyola, the University of New Orleans, Xavier and Dillard Universities. Although the flood waters receded in New Orleans, many residents were stuck in their "arks" awaiting the opportunity to return home. Students were enrolled in schools across the country and New Orleanians were stranded in cities living with friends, family members, or in shelters. Noah finally saw God's rainbow, the sign from God that Noah was looking for and he knew it was time to rebuild his world. Here in New Orleans, many are still waiting to see the rainbow. Will there ever be a rainbow for the people of New Orleans to see?

The flooding of the world and the flooding of New Orleans... an act of God or an act of nature? Who really knows? Did God send the hurricanes to destroy New Orleans and the Gulf Coast? My thought is no, hurricanes in this part of the country just happen because of the weather patterns. When you see a rainbow in the sky, is it because God put it there? Again, I feel that the answer is no, rainbows are a reflection of the moisture in the sky. Above all, the story of Noah and the flood and the story of New Orleans and its flood, are stories with a moral. Both are stories about places full of sin and corruption, but also righteousness.

Everyone in New Orleans has a story, many of them more dramatic than mine. I evacuated like everyone else. I was scared and nervous and I cried with many of my friends and loved ones from New Orleans. I was confused about why the levees broke and concerned about the welfare of my community.

After a month of speculating about where to go and what to do, Paige Nathan, then New Orleans Hillel Executive Director, encouraged me to come to Baltimore, where together, we could do some truly meaningful work. While in Baltimore, the Maryland-area Hillels opened their hearts and their doors, setting up computers, phones and a makeshift office. Paige and I, and the rest of the staff that was spread out across the country, worked hard to reach out to the students. We e-mailed and called students, parents and college and universities all over the country. We worked closely with other Hillel staff, college admissions staff and Jewish professionals nationwide. I personally traveled to Boston University, Syracuse, Cornell, NYU and UPenn, joining students for Shabbat dinners and taking freshmen to coffee, trying to encourage them to come back to Tulane. I worked hard to be that symbolic rainbow they were looking for, the sign that everything was going to be ok and that is was ok to come back to New Orleans to rebuild and renew.
When I returned to New Orleans after Yom Kippur, ready to start a better year, I found that I had truly been spared. Neither my car nor my apartment had flooded. I still had my job and wonderful support from Hillel's Charles and Lynn Schusterman International Center. I was fortunate to receive love and support from Jewish communities all over the world.

Because I was spared, I feel the responsibility to be more righteous and help repair and rebuild New Orleans. As assistant director at the New Orleans Hillel at Tulane University, I worked closely with our students, staff, lay board and university administrators to determine the new needs of the post-hurricane college student. Since the hurricane, our program numbers have increased tremendously. Community service and social action are now our top priority. New Orleans Hillel is working hard to recraft itself to meet the changing and growing needs of the New Orleans students.

I don't know what the future holds for New Orleans or for the rest of the world, but I do know that we can't wait around for a special sign to tell us to move on. Like the world after the biblical flood, it will take a very long time to rebuild New Orleans. On Sunday, October 29th, I am getting married in New Orleans. My future husband and I would like to stay in New Orleans and help rebuild this wonderful city, a city often associated with sin and corruption, but also a city full of good and righteous people. We are committed to creating our own rainbow here in New Orleans.

Written by Jody Portnoff, MSW, Assistant Director of New Orleans Hillel at Tulane

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Noach at MyJewishLearning.com.

During Chanukah as Jews all over the world gather around the Menorah and light an additional candle each night, we take it for granted that it could have been different.

In the Talmud in the Tractate of Shabbat (page 21b), we find a discussion of how one ought to light the Chanukah candles. In the text there we find a debate between the famous Jewish legal combatants Hillel and Shammai. According to Shammai, we are to light eight candles the first night and light one less each successive night, corresponding with the nights which remain. Hillel suggests starting with one candle and working our way up each night corresponding with the nights that have passed. As we all well know, we follow the custom of Hillel and the reason given in the Talmud in support of this custom is the phrase, ma'alin b'kodesh v'ain moridin. This means "We go up in matters of holiness and not down."

I have always found this teaching inspiring. We are instructed to ascend in matters of holiness and not to descend. We can understand this saying to mean that throughout our days, we must constantly strive to increase the amount of holiness our lives contain.

I originally imagined this continuum of personal holiness to look something like an incline, starting low as we begin our spiritual journey's and we work our way ever onwards and upwards in our lives. However, most of our lives paths don't look like inclines; they probably look more like roller coasters. We climb, we plunge, and every now and then we are even thrown for a loop. If that is the case how can we live out the idea of ever increasing in holiness? If we look at this weeks Torah portion Miketz, and last week's Vayeshev, we can see a boy who in becoming a man, go through ups and downs, but manages to climb the ladder of holiness.

That character is Joseph. He begins his life the beloved son of the wealthy and powerful Jacob. Joseph's life is good; he is even the best-dressed kid in town, since his father made him a fancy coat. However after a pair of self-centered dreams the next thing he knows Joseph has gone from the top to the bottom as he winds up in a pit when his brothers decided to sell him into slavery.

Joseph becomes the servant of one of Pharaoh's courtiers, Potiphar. Things go well for Joseph and he becomes the most trusted servant in the household. Things take a turn when his master's wife becomes attracted to Joseph and her jealous husband sends Joseph to prison.

It is in prison that Joseph meets and interprets dreams for the wine steward and the baker of Pharaoh. This chance meeting will have lasting consequences since it is the success of his dream interpretation which eventually gets him out of prison and into the palace when Pharaoh himself needs some dreams interpreted.

Joseph's life though hopefully more extreme than most of ours, is certainly a rollercoaster ride. Yet upon closer examination, we can see the idea of ever increasing holiness come through in his actions. A few years back in an article in Nehardeah a magazine of the Hebrew University Professor Avigdor Shinan does a close reading of the Joseph narratives. In the article we find that with each set of dreams that Joseph encounters, Joseph becomes more aware of God. When we read of Joseph's own two dreams there is no mention of God. However, when Joseph is in prison and encounters the wine steward and the baker he says "Surely God can interpret you dreams." Finally in this week's portion Miketz we read that when Joseph is summoned before the Pharaoh, that he claims to be acting on God's behalf and he mentions God about five times in this incident. In fact the most telling moment is Joseph's answer to Pharaoh's request for the interpretation of his dream. In Genesis 41:16 we read "Joseph answered Pharaoh, saying, 'Not I! God will see to Pharaoh's welfare." Rashi explains that in that moment Joseph confesses that the wisdom is not his own but rather the words of God.

We can see that despite Joseph's ups and downs, he maintains faith and allows God into his life and ultimately Joseph considers it his mission to carry out God's will. In this way we too can be "m'alin b'kodesh," even if we go up and down we can try to allow holiness into our lives. We can do this through prayer, through study and through the performance of mitzvot which allow us to act on God's behalf in our world. If we allow ourselves to rise in holiness our lives can be like the Menorah, ever increasing in light.

Prepared by David Levy, rabbi and advisor of the Colgate University Jewish Union.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Miketz at MyJewishLearning.com.

Ramban, one of our great medieval scholars, famously argues that the book of Genesis should be read as a template for Jewish history. Maaseh avot siman li banim - the action of our ancestors presage the lives of their descendants. How does this week's Torah portion inform our generation's experience of Jewish history?

To answer this question, we must recall the saga that is Jacob's life until this moment. Jacob left the land of Canaan under fear of death from his brother Esau after "stealing" his brother's blessing. Jacob finds refuge in his uncle's house where he works for the right to marry his cousin Rachel. But in this safe haven, we see Laban take advantage of his nephew Jacob. He exploits Jacob, changing his wages time and again, and finally tries to prevent his nephew's departure. Jacob survives these travails miraculously and leaves with a fortune in money and property.

Jacob returns home to face his brother Esau. Hearing that Esau has assembled 400 armed men to join him for their reunion, Jacob has every reason to believe that Esau will now make good on his threat to kill his brother. But just before the encounter with Esau, we find a bizarre, enigmatic passage in our Torah portion. Jacob is alone at the Yabok river and is accosted by a man with no name. They wrestle until dawn. Jacob never gives in, and on account of his determination, the man blesses Jacob, telling him his name will now be Israel, meaning "one who wrestles with God." The man, we come to learn, is an angel.

This is not the first time someone in Genesis has a divine encounter that results in a name change. Abraham was originally called Abram (exalted father), but had his name changed to Abraham, "the father of many nations." Never again do we hear Abraham called by his former name. Indeed, the Talmud says it is forbidden to do so. Jacob, on the other hand, is referred to as either Jacob or Israel for the rest of the Torah.

As a name, Jacob is less than noble. The Torah gives two different etymologies for the name Jacob. Either it comes from ekev, the word heel, because Jacob grabbed Esau's heel at birth. Or it comes from yavkeini, Esau's exclamation, "I have been tricked!" when Jacob "buys" Esau's birthright. A heel grabber denotes the vulgar ambition of a usurper. A trickster is one who uses his smarts not to enlighten, but to deceive. Israel, on the other hand is a more dignified name. It denotes one who struggles with God and never gives up.

Quoting the Talmud, Rabbi Isaac Hutner argues in his work Pachad Yiztchak, that this name change is a metaphor for the experience of Jews today. It is Jacob who is full of ambition and a drive to succeed. It is Jacob who seeks prestige in the eyes of his parents and history. It is Jacob who amasses a fortune. Israel, alternatively, is one who looks beyond prestige, financial and societal success measures and asks the big questions: What really makes for a meaningful life? How do I serve God? These are not easy questions, and there is not a single, monolithic answer. They are an ongoing work in progress, questions that must be continually revisited. They are a struggle through the long night of history and life, and we must never give in, and put these questions to rest. Each of us starts out a Jacob, but we try to become an Israel.

College is a time of extraordinary self-focus. We find ourselves, consciously or not, asking the big questions: "who am I?" "What should I do with my life?" "Who do I want to become?" "How will I succeed in relation to others?" It is tempting to settle for the answers of Jacob. It is tempting to imagine that prestige, success in a career, or financial security is the only answer to these eternal, human questions. But getting an education in college is more than an instrumental task. In addition to getting a job, it is about learning how to live a meaningful life. This is the task of becoming Israel. It is a task we must continually challenge ourselves to engage. This can be the task of Hillel.

At the end of all his struggles, we find Jacob arriving at the city of Shechem. The Torah says he arrived "shalem" - whole, or complete. The Talmud asks about this adjective. What constitutes "completeness" or fulfillment for Jacob. The Talmud, in the name of Rav, comments "He arrived complete - physically intact, financially intact, and with all of his Torah." An arrival at our destination in the journey in life means we must prepare our bodies and careers, but we must also prepare spiritually.

Written by Rabbi Dan Smokler, senior Jewish educator for the Schusterman International Center.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Vayishlach at MyJewishLearning.com.

Genesis 37 (5) Once Joseph had a dream which he told to his brothers and they hated him even more. (6) He said to them, "Hear this dream which I have dreamed: (7) There we were binding sheaves in the field, when suddenly my sheaf stood up and remained upright; then your sheaves gathered around and bowed low to my sheaf." (8) His brothers answered, "Do you mean to reign over us? Do you mean to rule over us?" And they hated him even more for his talk about his dreams. (9) He dreamed another dream and told it to his brothers, saying, "Look, I have had another dream; And this time the sun, the moon, and eleven stars were bowing down to me." (10) And when he told his father and brothers, his father berated him. "What," he said, "is this dream you have dreamed? Are we to come, I and your mother and your brothers, and bow low to you on the ground?" (11) So his brothers were enraged at him, and his father kept the matter in mind.

Genesis 40 (1) Some time later, the cupbearer and the baker of the king of Egypt offended their lord the king of Egypt. (2) Pharaoh was angry with his two aides, the chief cupbearer and the chief baker, (3) and put them in custody, in the house of the chief steward, in the same prison where Joseph as confined. (4) The chief steward assigned Joseph to them, and he waited on them. When they had been in custody for some time, (5) both of them--the cupbearer and the baker of the king of Egypt--who were confined in the prison--dreamed in the same night individual dreams with their own individual meanings. (6) When Joseph came to them in the morning, he saw that they were distraught. (7) He asked Pharaoh's aides, who were with him in custody in his master's house, saying, "Why do you appear downcast today?" (8) And they said to him, "We had dreams, and there is no one to interpret them." So Joseph said to them, "Surely G-d can interpret! Please tell me [your dreams]." (9) Then the chief cupbearer told his dream to Joseph. He said to him, "In my dream, there was a vine in front of me. (10) On the vine were three branches. It had barely budded, when out came its blossoms and its clusters ripened into grapes. (11) Pharaoh's cup was in my hand, and I took the grapes, pressed them into Pharaoh's cup, and placed the cup in Pharaoh's hand."

(12) Joseph said to him, "This is its interpretation: The three branches are three days. (13) In three days Pharaoh will pardon you and restore you to your post; you will place Pharaoh's cup in his hand as was your custom formerly when you were his cupbearer. (14) But think of me when all is well with you again, and do me the kindness of mentioning me to Pharaoh so as to free me from this place. (15) For in truth, I was kidnapped from the land of the Hebrews; nor have I done anything that they should have put me in the dungeon." (16) When the chief baker saw how favorably he had interpreted, he said to Joseph, "In my dream, similarly, there were three open baskets on my head. (17) In the uppermost basket were all kinds of food for Pharaoh that a baker prepares; and the birds were eating it out of the basket above my head." (18) Joseph answered, "This is its interpretation: The three baskets are three days. (19) In three days Pharaoh will lift off your head and impale you upon a pole; and the birds will pick off your flesh." (20) On the third day -- his birthday - Pharaoh made a banquet for all his officials, and he singled out his chief cupbearer and his chief baker from among his officials. (21) He restored the chief cupbearer to his cupbearing, and he placed the cup in Pharaoh's hand; (22) but the chief baker he impaled - just as Joseph had interpreted to them. (23) Yet the chief cupbearer did not think of Joseph; he forgot him.

Your Torah Navigator

Both of these stories highlight Joseph's relationship with dreams. What are the distinctions between the two stories?

1. Why are Jacob and Joseph's brothers so antagonistic toward his dreams? What bothers them more: the dreams themselves or that it is Joseph, the youngest brother, who has them? Why?
2. Why did Joseph's sharing of his dreams cause his brothers to hate him even more? Why did Jacob "keep the matter in mind?" (Hint: What might a father's life experience tell him about what he observes between his children? What does Jacob himself know about dreams?)
3. When Joseph was interpreting the dreams in the prison, who was actually doing the interpreting?
4. Which idea is more powerful -- Joseph interpreting his own dreams or those of the aides?

Your Talmud Navigator

Brachot 55a Rab Judah also said in the name of Rab: There are three things for which one should
supplicate (thank God); a good king, a good year, and a good dream... Rabbi Hisda also said: A dream which is not interpreted is like a letter which is not read.

*** Brachot 56b Rabbi Hanina said: If one sees a well in a dream, he will behold peace, since it says: "And Isaac's servants digged in the valley, and found there a well of living water? (Genesis 26:19). Rabbi Nathan said: He will find Torah, since it says, "Whoso findeth me, findeth life? (Proverbs 8:35) and it is written here, ?a well of living water.? Raba said: It means life literally.

1. Why would Rab Judah pick these three things? What do they have in common? (Hint: In whose control are these three things that they would be good or bad?)
2. What is Rabbi Hisda's point? Who is sending the letter?
3. What, according to Rabbis Hanina, Nathan and Raba, can be found within dreams?
4. According to these three talmudic points, are dreams themselves bad? What if they contain bad news? Is that different than how the Torah seems to perceive dreams?

A Word

The power of dreams was very real to our biblical ancestors. Within the last century we have come to understand that dreams are intricately related to our mental health and well-being as natural expressions of our subconscious. In Joseph's time, dreams were believed to be divine messages, often encoded, that could only be interpreted by people with special prophetic skills. This concept was prominent in many ancient Middle Eastern cultures, especially in Egypt.

The distinction about dream interpretation between our ancient Israelite ancestors and their surrounding pagan cultures was the belief that God spoke directly to our leaders and prophets through their dreams and that they understood the message without needing a separate interpreter or text. This was a Jewish gift alone, though: God spoke to us for our purposes and benefit and not for others. Joseph's use of his gift of interpretation for his fellow Egyptian prisoners rather than for himself is rare in the Bible. The only other exception, Daniel, also served a foreign ruler. The rabbis of the Talmud came to appreciate dreams as messages that foretold events of great importance to the dreamer. They were to be taken seriously and valued as omens of things to come.

Another Jewish thinker of a different and modern type, Dr. Sigmund Freud, taught the contemporary world that dreams are not messages from God but messages from the self. Some need outside interpretation and some are clear in their meaning, but they are to be taken seriously as indicators of who and where we are mentally and emotionally. Whether you follow the ancient idea of dreams as messages from God or the modern idea as messages from the self -- or perhaps some combination of the two -- the portion this week provides us with a powerful message of the impact they can have upon the dreamer.

Prepared by Rabbi Scott Aaron, Assistant Director, Hillel at The Ohio State University

"Heenay ma tov oomah na'eem - shevet achim gam yachad."
"How good and how pleasant it is - when brothers sit together."

These words of King David in the famous psalm present one view of the relationship of siblings: They often do dwell together in harmony. On the other side of the coin, however, sibling harmony is often hard to find -- particularly in the book of Genesis.

This week as we read Parshat Vayishlach we learn of the reunion of Jacob and Esau, who have not seen each other since Esau vowed to kill Jacob for swindling him out of his birthright 20 years before. The reunion is incomplete; the brothers hug, kiss, reconcile, but ultimately go their separate ways. Yet Jacob's anxiety and his preparation for the reunion speak volumes about his character, and the character he will become in the ensuing encounter with his ever-so-slightly older brother.
The account of his evening before the encounter takes up just 11 terse verses in the Torah:

That same night he arose, and taking his two wives, his two maidservants, and his eleven children, he crossed the ford of the Jabbok. After taking them across the stream, he sent across all his possessions. Jacob was left alone. And a man wrestled with him until the break of dawn. When he saw that he had not prevailed against him, he wrenched Jacob's hip at its socket, so that the socket of his hip was strained as he wrestled with him. Then he said, "Let me go, for dawn is breaking." But he answered, "I will not let you go, unless you bless me." Said the other, "What is your name?" He replied, "Jacob." Said he, "Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with beings divine and human, and have prevailed." Jacob asked, "Pray tell me your name." But he said, "You must not ask my name!" And he took leave of him there. So Jacob named the place Peniel, meaning, "I have seen a divine being face to face, yet my life has been preserved." The sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel, limping on his hip. That is why the children of Israel to this day do not eat the thigh muscle that is on the socket of the hip, since Jacob's hip socket was wrenched at the thigh muscle.
(Chapter 32:23-33, JPS Translation)

The identity of this man with whom Jacob wrestles is a tantalizing mystery. Many midrashim, interpretive commentators, identify it as an angel, sent to do its mission during the night. That explanation would justify the being's request to "let me go, for dawn is breaking." It would also explain the being's power to bestow a name change as blessing. This would also elucidate the phrase that Jacob has "seen a divine being face to face."
But two other modern midrashim suggest more specific identities for "the man." One intriguing possibility put forth by my teacher Ruth Fagin is that Esau, either figuring out Jacob's location or guessing it with the intuition of a twin, is, himself, "the man." When they meet the next morning, Jacob describes seeing Esau's face as "seeing the face of God." They each needed to work out their sibling rivalry in a nocturnal, intense struggle so that they could accept each other in the light of day. In this reading, Esau must go before daybreak to maintain either the secrecy or the sanctity of their battle. His blessing of Jacob corrects the injustice of the blessing stolen two decades before. The wounding of Jacob is a permanent mark by the elder sibling, but it obviates the need for further revenge.

The other possibility, suggested by Rabbi Harold Kushner among others, is that the man is Jacob himself. Jacob must wrestle out the "heal-sneak" (Everett Fox's translation of Ya'akov) elements of himself in order to achieve his destiny and finally face his brother as Israel (Yisra-El: God wrestler). If you read the account of the duel carefully, you will notice that the pronouns float ambiguously through the middle of the tale. Jacob's injury is now symbolic: in the teachings of Rabbi Yitz Greenberg, Jacob could only be complete if he knew that he was incomplete, i.e., broken. Jacob's blessing is now as powerful as it is hopeful: He blesses himself with the power to aspire to his highest hopes, and to no longer cater to his basest traits.

One of the wonderful qualities of elusive passages like this from the Torah is their ability to evade our attempts to make them conform to one single meaning or interpretation. Whether it was an angel, Esau, Jacob, or some other manifestation, the nighttime encounter changed our ancestor from a frightened family man to an empowered leader of a clan, and ultimately a nation, the nation of Israel.

Written by Rabbi Ben Lanckton, MIT Hillel

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Vayishlach at MyJewishLearning.com.

Economic collapse.

Environmental disruption.

Losing the family home and mortgaging the future to keep from starving.

When you take away the Elvis impersonator and the catchy Andrew Lloyd Webber ditties, Egypt under Joseph's management bears some resemblance to our current situation.

Back then, the Children of Israel had it pretty easy. When famine struck Egypt, ordinary Egyptians surrendered their land and indentured themselves and their descendants as serfs to Pharaoh in exchange for food to survive. In contrast, Joseph welcomes his father and his estranged brothers from hunger-ravaged Canaan, allowing them to hole themselves up separately in the fertile land of Goshen and to find more than enough sustenance.

These days, the Jewish community doesn't have the luxury of riding out the crises we face in isolation from broader society. Fiscal constraints and investment fraud have decimated contributions and endowments, and undergraduate and graduate students alike are having to defer plans to begin or continue studying for financial reasons. Global warming threatens food production and climatic stability around the globe. Distinctive Jewish pain may be more or less severe in any particular situation, but it reflects the universal agony that nearly everyone is experiencing.

What can sustain us through difficulties like these are our relationships and our support for each other. Jewish tradition and practice emphasizes the importance of relationship, from the Pirkei Avot statement that one should not separate oneself from the community to Martin Buber's exploration of I-Thou interactions to the foundational principles of Hillel's engagement efforts. These ties can be an emotional, psychological, spiritual and financial balm in our times of need.

In deepening our relationships, it's not a question of choosing either our Jewish contacts or our non-Jewish connections; both can be essential to survival and success. In fact, the Children of Israel's survival in Goshen was not an illustration of self-sufficiency. Rather, Joseph's reunion with his brothers and father and his efforts to save them highlights one of the best examples of how relationships with both Jews and non-Jews can work in tandem.

On the one hand, Joseph's kinship ties with his family are the most basic and ancient illustration of the connections that bind the Children of Israel. As much as time may have frayed those ties, this earliest sense of klal Yisrael instills in him the obligation to provide them with shelter and protection.

In symmetry, Joseph's links to the outside, Egyptian world also prove essential. While the Israelites rode out the food crisis separate from the surrounding society, the resources he provides them and the license to allocate land to his family are those Joseph secured through his connections with Egyptian society. These bridging relationships provide him with the authority and the resources to act on his sense of duty to Jacob and his brothers. Thus, without both of these bundles of relationships, familial and external, the Jewish people would perhaps not have come into being in the way we now see ourselves.

Significantly, Joseph's leveraging his relationship with Egyptian society is not a case of quid pro quo. The text shows no indication that Joseph's willingness to interpret Pharaoh's dream was spurred by the expectation that his new-found position of authority would allow him to welcome his family so warmly a few years later. Instead, it testifies to the fact that our bridging relationships with those outside the Jewish community can benefit us all in the long run, regardless of what motivates our original efforts to reach out.

There is no magic bullet to rid ourselves of the challenges we face. If you're looking to this d'var Torah for a hint as to how to pump up your checking account or lower temperatures worldwide, you're going to be disappointed. The problems we face, whether environmental disruption or pension plan degradation, are real. Nevertheless, Vayigash reminds us of the significance of togetherness and relationship and the comfort we can give to and receive from each other, both Jews and non-Jews. At times, one may outweigh the other in importance, but we cannot survive, either individually or as a people, without both strengthening our ties with each other as Jews and engaging the world around us.

Rabbi Seth Goren is the Director of Jewish Student Life at Lehigh University.

Genesis 37-40:23

The made-for-stage story of Joseph begins with this week's parsha, Vayeshev, and will continue for the next four weeks until the end of the book of Bereishit, Genesis.

From the outset of the parsha it is clear that Jacob favors Joseph among his ten sons, giving him the infamous "ktonet pasim," the coat of many colors, or ornamented tunic. This preferential treatment, as well as Joseph's penchant for sharing egocentric dreams, anger his brothers. The brothers react harshly, selling poor Joseph into Egyptian slavery. In Egypt, Joseph demonstrates surprisingly strong character by resisting the lurid designs of his boss's wife.

Genesis 37:1-11

2 ...At seventeen years of age, Joseph tended the flocks with his brothers, as a helper to the sons of his father's wives Bilhah and Zilpah. And Joseph brought bad reports of them to their father. 3. Now Israel loved Joseph best of all his sons, for he was the child of his old age; and he had made him an ornamented tunic. 4. And when his brothers saw that their father loved him more than any of his brothers, they hated him so that they could not speak a friendly word to him. 5. Once Joseph had a dream which he told to his brothers; and they hated him even more. 6. He said to them, "Hear this dream which I have dreamed: 7. There we were binding sheaves in the field, when suddenly my sheaf stood up and remained upright; then your sheaves gathered around and bowed low to my sheaf." 8. His brothers answered, "Do you mean to reign over us? Do you mean to rule over us?" And they hated him even more for his talk about his dreams. 9. He dreamed another dream and told it to his brothers, saying, "Look, I have had another dream: And this time, the sun, the moon, and eleven stars were bowing down to me." 10. And when he told it to his father and brothers, his father berated him. "What," he said to him, "is this dream that you have dreamed? Are we to come, I and your mother and your brothers, and bow low to you to the ground?" 11. So his brothers were wrought up at him, and his father kept the matter in mind.

Your Torah Navigator

1. Do you believe that Joseph understood that the two causes of enmity against him -- namely, his tendency to tattle on his brothers and receiving Jacob's favoritism -- might lead to jealousy and disdain on the part of his brothers? If so, what do you think motivated him to still reveal his dreams to his brothers?

2. Based on these opening lines describing young Joseph, do you feel that his tribe should later merit the title "HaTzadik," or righteous?

Parshanut/Commentaries

Jewish tradition has much to say about the causes of enmity against Joseph. Even traditional rabbinic commentators are troubled by the young man's behavior. Some authorities claim that the act of dreaming the dreams itself was reprehensible, as it exhibited visions of grandeur that Joseph obviously nursed during wakeful moments. The commentators understand the brothers' hatred of Joseph and express shock that he would reveal not just one but two dreams.

Why, then, does Jewish tradition refer to Joseph as "HaTzadik," some commentators ask? Such "overweening pride and self-importance [seems] remote indeed from the conception of righteousness implicit in the title," writes contemporary scholar Nechama Liebowitz. Elie Wiesel does battle with this notion as well, asserting that Joseph was the singular ancestor called "righteous" in a line of great patriarchs.

Countless traditional commentators offer that Joseph's greatest act as tzadik came in resisting the temptation of Potiphar's wife. He was also said to be consistently God-fearing in a secular world, and humble in a position of power. But Wiesel is not satisfied. The Nobel laureate knows from later parshiyot that even while Joseph was praising God's divine wisdom, he was endlessly scheming his own next move; whilehe embraced his Abrahamic origins, he kept one foot firmly planted in the secular, Egyptian culture that rewarded him.

A Word

The Joseph saga raises the question of how contemporary Jews choose their Biblical role models. What can we learn from these eminent characters with all their internal flaws, their morally imperfect behavior, their all-too-human shortcomings?

There is a fine line between being righteous and being self- righteous. In Hebrew, the distinction is between being a "tzadik," righteous, and being "tzadik b'einav," righteous in one's own eyes. Joseph, it seems, struggled with his own divinely ordained charm, which was both the source of his brothers' enmity and of his effectiveness as a member of Pharoah's court.

Wiesel only accepts Joseph as "HaTzadik" because it is a righteous person who resists temptations in human relationships. Joseph is crowned tzadik because he ultimately forgave his brothers for selling him into slavery and compassionately helps his family move to Egypt during a time of famine in Canaan. Joseph succeeds in vanquishing his bitterness and turns it into love. "What does all this mean?" Wiesel asks. "That one is not born a Tzadik; one must strive to become one. And having become a Tzadik, one must strive to remain one."

Prepared by Rabbi Sharon Mars, North Carolina Hillel, Chapel Hillel, NC.

This week's torah portion, Miketz, tells of Joseph's first encounter with his brothers after they sold him into slavery. He has risen to Pharaoh's favor by interpreting his dreams. Specifically, Joseph interprets one set of dreams about the seven fat, healthy cows being consumed by seven thin cows, and a second set about seven healthy, full stalks of corn being consumed by seven unhealthy, thin stalks. Joseph leverages the situation to his advantage, explaining to Pharaoh that the dreams mean that there will soon be seven years of plenty followed by seven years of famine, and that Pharaoh needs to appoint a minister to manage the issue. Reasoning that the one who rationalized the dream would be best suited to handle the situation, Pharaoh appoints Joseph to take care of the grain during the expected famine. It is during this time, as a powerful man, that he reencounters his brothers. They do not recognize him, although he knows who they are immediately and has put himself in a position of real power over them.

Interestingly enough, this ability to interpret dreams is both the breaking point in Joseph's relationship with his brothers and turns out to be the skill that propels Joseph from the Pharaoh's dungeon to his right hand. The gift of interpreting dreams has been both a blessing and a curse to Joseph. The way Joseph deals with seeing his brothers again also shows that there are two sides of his story. He wants to exact revenge for what they did to him, and yet the Torah mentions on more than one occasion that Joseph has to leave the room to weep during his encounters with them. The Sforno, a traditional Bible commentator, notes that Joseph is not crying out of self pity, but because he is truly and deeply troubled and feels pain for both his brothers and father. His internal conflict is apparent in this interaction when, for example, he punishes Benjamin, and yet he seems most emotionally effected by Benjamin's presence before him.

The story of Chanukah and the story of Joseph in Miketz relate to each other in the common themes. The story of Chanukah begins with terrible conflicts between Jews and the Greeks in the takeover of the Temple. There are also internal conflicts among the Jews. Not all Jews were in agreement. There were many who embraced Hellenistic culture, and those, like the Maccabees, who rose up against Hellenism in order to preserve Judaism their way. The fight over the Temple is long, and much is lost. Although this point in our history is full of political conflicts, on Chanukah we have come to commemorate this story by focusing on the miracle of the oil burning in the Temple after it was reclaimed. Like Joseph, the heroes of the story of Chanukah had to take what they were given and use it to their best advantage. The Maccabees were rewarded with the miracle of the oil burning for eight days. Our eight-day celebrations commemorate the miracle that God gave them in their victory, but it also reminds us of the chaos and hardship that preceded the miracle.

Both Joseph in Miketz and the Chanukah story teach us about gifts that we possess, as well as how we use what is given to us to interpret and influence our situations. It is difficult to see through chaos and know that we are preparing correctly for the future. Joseph's gift of interpreting dreams made him a rich and powerful man, but it also alienated him from his family. Had the Maccabees not held out in their long and vastly outnumbered fight, they would not have reclaimed the Temple. There were also many costs to their battle, including a large divide within their community. Through these stories, we see that there is strength in looking through the chaos of the present and focusing on the future. In the little time we have to relax during the eight days of Chanukah, we have the opportunity to think about the decisions we make to influence our future and celebrate our successes, as individuals and as a part of a community.

Prepared by Lisa Stella, Soref Fellow

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Miketz at MyJewishLearning.com.

(19) This is the story of Isaac, son of Abraham. Abraham begot Isaac.

(20) Isaac was forty years old when he took to wife Rebekah, daughter of Bethuel the Aramean of Paddanaram, sister of Laban the Aramean.

(21) Isaac pleaded with the Lord on behalf of his wife, because she was barren; and the Lord responded to his plea, and his wife Rebekah conceived.

(22) But the children struggled (also, were "on the run," see below) in her womb, and she said, "If so, why do I exist?"

She went to inquire of the Lord, (23) and the Lord answered her, "Two nations are in your womb, Two separate peoples shall issue from your body; One people shall be mightier than the other, And the older shall serve the younger."

Your Torah Navigator

How does Rebekah's conversation with God create a context for the role that she will later play with her children?

1. Is it easy for Rebekah to become pregnant? Once pregnant, is her pregnancy an easy one?
2. What do you think the meaning is of her question "Lamah ze anochi--If so, why do I exist?" (JPS translates this literally as "If so, why then am/do I...")? Is she expressing frustration at her physical burden, or is the pain making her ask some more probing questions about the meaning of her life?
3. Does God's reply answer her question(s)? What are the different ways that God's reply might be read? (hint: one reading might be, "Here is the reason your pregnancy is so painful" and another might be, "Here is the reason you exist, here is the reason for your life.")
4. Is God predicting the future for Rebekah (as this all will indeed become true), or is God telling Rebekah to take a role in making this oracle come to fruition (as she will, in fact, later do by having Jacob dress up like his older twin in order to receive his father's blessing in verses 27:5-13)?
5. If God tells Rebekah what is to be, is she still responsible for making sure that it happens? How does this instruct our own relationship with God or with our efforts in living our own lives?

Genesis Rabbah, Chapter 63:6
"And the children seemed to be ever on the run within her" (Gen. 25:22). When Rebekah passed synagogues or houses of study, Jacob (in utero) was scurrying within her in his eagerness to get out; and when she passed houses of idolatry, Esau (in utero) was scurrying in his eagerness to get out.

Your Midrash Navigator
1. The midrash uses a play on the word 'yi-ro-tz'tzu,' on the run, to explain both the unusual use of the word as well as to offer some insight into Rebekah's physical condition. Here again, we are given some for shadowing on the life of these twins and the nature of their relationship. What role does "running" have in their future? How does this "running" continue to cause Rebekah pain in her later life?
2. How is it that one womb carried both the potential for prayer and for idolatry? (Perhaps this teaches us that the two are very close together, like brothers, and if we are not careful, our prayer can also turn into idolatry.) In what way could we say that these two brothers represent parts of ourselves?
3. If Rebekah hadn't felt the twins struggling (other texts tell us that she didn't know she was having twins) would she have asked God her question? Did the twins play a role in securing their own destiny? (Because once Rebekah asked, their destiny was spelled out explicitly...)

A Word
In this wonderful and terse exchange between Rebekah and God, the tension of who is responsible for the creation of destiny is thrown into the light. Is it Rebekah, who asks the question of why she exists and then opens herself up to the promises that God gives her? Or is it the twins, who potentially represent good and evil, and who instigate the circumstances (pain) that ensure Rebekah asks her question? Or is it God (who gives the answer to the question of the future but doesn't explain either how the future will come about, or who will be responsible for it)?

Prepared by Rabbi Noa Rachael Kushner, Campus Rabbi, Stanford University

As we finished reading the Torah this week on Simchat Torah we started anew and experienced creation all over again. The parsha of Bereshit - "When God began to create" (Bereshit 1:1) - is not just about God creating the world but humankind's partnership in completing Creation. (Just stay with me, because it will be a little roundabout).

Bereshit

2:25 The two of them were naked, the man and his wife, yet they felt no shame.

After an unfortunate encounter with a snake, a tree, and its fruit:

3:7 Then the eyes of both of them were opened and they perceived that they were naked; and they sewed together fig leaves and made themselves loincloths.

As punishment for eating the fruit, God banishes (now named) Adam and Chava from Eden. Before the punishment is enacted...

3:21 And the Lord God made garments of skins for Adam and his wife, and clothed them.

Midrash

Before God created the world, there was only God. When God decided to create the world, God pulled back in order to create a space for the world. It was in that space that the universe was formed. But now, in that space, there was no God. God created special Divine Sparks, light, to be placed back into God's creation. When God created light, and placed the light inside of Creation, special containers were prepared to hold it. But, there was an accident. A cosmic accident. The containers broke. The universe became filled with sparks of God's Divine light and shards of the broken containers. Our tradition teaches us that one of our tasks is to gather the sparks of God's light back together. In this way the work of Creation will be completed. This is called Tikun Olam, repairing the world. [From the Ziv Giraffe Curriculum]

Kesher

The kesher (connection) between the Parsha and the Midrash is that by providing dignity to Adam and Chava, by clothing them, God is performing the first act of Gemilut Chasidim. This simple act demonstrates for us the path that allows us to be partners in completing Creation.

A Word

When Bereshit describes God's statement about creation, it says "and God saw that it was good." It was not perfect or complete, just good. The perfection and completion of the created order are a result of our cooperation with God. We have a duty to find that which is good and right in the world and lift it up to God. As we perform Mitzvot, good deeds, Gemilut Chasidim, acts of loving kindness, and pursue Tzedek, righteousness, we lift the hidden sparks of light from the darkness and bring them closer together. When everyone across the world is pursuing lives of Tzedek, then the world will be complete.

Prepared by Aaron Katchen, Director of Jewish Campus Life Brown-RISD Hillel Foundation Participant, 2001 Hillel-Pardes Summer Learning Institute.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Bereshit at MyJewishLearning.com.

The Torah reading of Vayishlach focuses on the second half of the life of Jacob. In the past few weeks we have read about his early life; his feud with his brother Esau and his flight to his uncle, Laban, whose daughters he marries. Now Jacob is an established chieftain, returning to his home with four wives, eleven sons and one daughter and much wealth. In this parsha (portion) he returns to Canaan and is forced to face his past and to establish himself, his family and his legacy for the future.

The various episodes in the parsha provide us with two ways of understanding Jacob and his family at this stage in their history. First there are the episodes in which the characters, especially Jacob, are presented to us primarily in a very personal way as individuals. They experience events in which their own emotions, especially fear and pain, are center stage and the text focuses on the personal drama. And then there are episodes in which the story focuses on the larger political arena, the way in which this single family is evolving into a tribe, and then into a nation. It is facing new experiences that challenge it as a collective, events that deal with the political, not just the personal.

The first main event of the parsha, Jacob's lonely fight with the "man" on the night before he meets Esau, across the river of Jabbok, is the epitome of a personal encounter. The traditional commentators debate the nature of this encounter; Maimonides believes it is a symbolic representation of an internal conflict in which Jacob faces his mental fear of Esau; Nachmanides argues that it is a physical encounter. But, either way, Jacob is alone. He faces his own darkness and his own fears, and must fight, and win, using his own strength. The power of this story is in the image of a single man emerging victorious out of the darkness after a difficult struggle, and we can see our own individual selves in this archetypal event.

This personal tone changes immediately afterwards, when Jacob meets his brother Esau and the story takes a wider, less personal, focus. The brothers approach each other as tribal chieftains. They are surrounded by their families, their flocks and their servants. Their language is formal and the meeting has the feeling of a ritual meeting between rulers who are establishing a formal truce. Jacob gives Esau gifts, and addresses him repeatedly as "My Lord." Apart from the first moments of the meeting, in which Esau and Jacob embrace, this is not a meeting of two individuals, but two tribal units and all they embody.

The next episode in the parsha deals with the rape of Jacob's daughter, Dina, and the resulting revenge taken on the rapist, Shechem, and his whole city. In this story we might expect to see the personal drama take center stage; hear the pain and anger of Jacob, responding to the violence against his daughter as a father, or learn about the terror of Dina as she is victimized. But the story focuses on the political elements of the story. We know nothing about Dina's feelings, nor do we see a father dealing with tragedy. Rather, Levi and Shimon, Jacob's sons, take revenge on the whole city of Shechem and utterly destroy it. Jacob is concerned, not with the damage done to his daughter, but to the political ramifications of Levi and Shimon's actions and the damage that may be done to the reputation of the tribe of Israel as a result. The personal facets of this story are absent, perhaps jarringly so, and it is up to the midrashim, both ancient and modern, to fill in the personal gaps of the story.

The movement between the personal and the collective, or political, focus is evident throughout this parsha (read it yourself and you will see several other examples) and is symbolized by the core event, the change of Jacob's name. The man (or angel) who fights with Jacob blesses him with a new name. Later, God repeats this change of name, from Jacob to Israel. Jacob, the name that defined him as an individual, is no longer accurate. Jacob is the name of a single person. Israel is the name of a collective entity, a nation. It means, "one who struggles with God." Now he is "Israel," a name by which all his descendents will be called, "the children of Israel." It is interesting to note that after Jacob's name has been changed he is still sometimes referred to as Jacob, and sometimes as Israel. The change of name does not wipe out his individual identity. On one hand, he is still an individual. The name he was born with reflects his identity and he continues to be defined by it. But, at the same time, from this parsha and onward Jacob is not just Jacob. He is also Israel, representative of a collective history and destiny, a nation.

This is an important lesson for each of us. We are all individuals, with our own names and unique identities. But, each of us is also part of something greater than ourselves. We are part of a group, a nation, something that defines us as "we." The movement between the "I" and the "we" is found in the individual names our parents gave us, and the name "Israel" that we also carry with us. The relationship between these two identities is sometimes expressed peacefully and sometimes it is a struggle. It begins in this week's parsha and continues to this day, and in my opinion it makes life richer and more creative for each one of us and the whole Jewish people.

Prepared by Clare Goldwater, director of Hillel's Joseph Meyerhoff Center for Jewish Learning.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Vayishlach at MyJewishLearning.com.

Sometimes the most difficult circumstances demand difficult choices. The kidnapping, seduction, and rape of Dinah sent shockwaves throughout the family of Jacob. Leah's daughter was in the hands - literally and figuratively - of a man called Shechem, the son of Chamor, the powerful leader of the Hivite clan. Curiously, Jacob's own reaction was initially one of silence and passivity. Jacob's sons had a different approach: The despicable act could not be tolerated! (Genesis 34:5&7)

With great chutzpah, Chamor and Shechem offered a peace plan, which proposed that Shechem marry his victim (Dinah), and that Jacob allow his family - the future Jewish people – to intermarry with the Hivites. Bizarre as the accord sounds, not a word is heard from Jacob. Instead, his sons present a counterproposal whereby Chamor and Shechem and the entire Hivite male population undergoes circumcision in order for the peace plan to work. Indeed, both sides had ulterior motives. Chamor and Shechem planned to take over the property of Jacob (Genesis 34:23), while Jacob's children anticipated attacking the Hivites, even as they suggested the circumcision plan.
(Bereshit Raba Midrash)

Picture the scene: some eight hundred men and boys recuperating from their circumcisions. The third day is the most painful (so I'm told). That's when the healing begins. Silently, in a swift and stealthy manner, two of Jacob's sons, Shimon and Levi, enter the city, and kill every male, including Chamor and Shechem. Then they rescue their sister Dinah, and leave. What drama!

But Jacob does not award them the medal of valor. Instead he admonishes them for giving him a bad reputation among the Canaanites and Perizites. Jacob worries that his small group is no match against a unified enemy attack. "My family and I will be wiped out," bemoans Jacob. (Genesis 34:30)

But Shimon and Levi hold their position and defend their actions. "Should he (Shechem or anyone) treat our sister like a prostitute?"(Genesis 34:31)

The argument ends. The brothers get the last word, however a tense debate over the appropriate response to anti-Semitism will continue for millennia: to remain quiet in the face of violent attack, hoping for calm and coexistence? Or to speak up, with words and with weapons, against persecution and terror? Thus, Jacob remains emotionally distant from his sons Shimon and Levi. And the argument is never fully resolved.

Torah Navigator

1. Dinah was first spotted by Shechem while hanging out with the Hivite young women. What was Dinah's motivation for socializing with them?

2. Under what circumstances would one be prepared to kill? Were Shimon and Levi justified?

3. What precedence is established through the Jacob-Shimon/ Levi argument? How does this play itself out in Jewish history?

A Final Thought

One cannot help but draw parallels between the drama of the parsha and the current situation in Israel. Among Jews here, many approaches are tabled. We feel that a trust has been violated. Now the question is: What do we do about it? Jacob is concerned about world opinion and violent reprisal. Shimon and Levi believe that without a tough militant response, a vulnerable Israel is continually subject to attack.

What do you think?

Prepared by Rabbi Shmuel Bowman, Director, The Ellin Mitchell Hillel Program Tel Aviv University

This week's parsha, Toledot, continues the story of our people's beginnings. Specifically, we learn of the birth of Yitzhak's two sons who, like Abraham's two sons before them, were destined to become the fathers of two nations. Esau, the older of the fraternal twins, seems ill-equipped or interested in leading the family and displays this when he is willing to sell his birthright to Yaakov for a bowl of soup. As Yitzhak's last days approach, his wife, Rivka, collaborates with her younger son in a ploy that leads to Yaakov receiving the mantle of leadership and the blessing due his older brother. Esau discovers that he has been passed over and is filled with rage toward his brother Yaakov. Yaakov flees for his life and sets out to take a wife from among his kin in a distant town.

Yaakov is a particularly difficult figure to wrestle with - and the pun is intentional. Through his struggles with people and with God, he becomes Yisrael, the father of our holy nation and the paradigm of what it means to be a Jew. Yet Yaakov's life, by his own description, is bitter, and Yaakov, who deceives his father in this parsha, will in turn be deceived time and again himself. He is destined from the womb to achieve greatness and at the same time behaves in a manner that is decidedly anti-heroic. He takes advantage of his less cunning, hungry brother. He lies to his father and goes so far as to invoke God's name while doing so. When his deception is discovered, he flees. Where Yaakov earns our respect is in the personal growth he experiences and demonstrates. It is not in Yaakov that we find our hero but in Yisrael, the man he later becomes.

Within the rabbinic tradition, Esau is identified as the father of Edom, Amalek and Rome. The unrelenting sorrows brought upon the Jewish people by these entities has long been explained as being a result of the ancient grudge Esau's descendants held toward their brother Yaakov. By attributing historical conflict to what is in essence the story of a dysfunctional family, our sages provide us powerful and instructive insight into the human condition. As pastoral figures, modern rabbis need to recognize the power of family history in the lives of people who struggle with issues of domestic violence, addiction and certain kinds of anxiety and depression. What the sages suggest to us through the archetype of Esau-Edom-Rome is that such legacies can affect entire nations for thousands of years. We are all familiar with the similar use of Yishmael as a representative of our Arab brothers and sisters. In our day, we have seen some healing between Esau and Yisrael, and we fervently hope of similar reconciliation between the sons of Yitzhak and Yishmael.

In a more personal and individual sense, we can proudly claim that which functions so well in our ancient family. Just as Yaakov and Esau remind us of Yitzhak and his brother Yishmael, so too does Yaakov remind us of his grandfather. As Avram becomes Avraham, so will Yaakov become Yisrael. Our patriarchs teach us the spiritual lesson of ever-becoming - and in this reflect the God they served. We Jews are called to constantly strive to improve ourselves and to face our challenges with an attitude of opportunity. We do this in a multitude of ways - most importantly through commitment to traditional mitzvot, but also through our social action and, in particular, with our efforts on campuses where we serve. We are able to work in an environment uniquely suited to collaboration and dialogue with our brother Esau, and we can and must seize that opportunity when it presents itself. Kal Ve-Chomer, how much more so with our cousins the children of Yishmael.

It should not escape us in the wake of this most divisive and difficult election season that there is much healing that needs to take place among our American family. As with Esau and Yaakov, it feels like we are dealing with two nations where there should and must be one. We Jews are too familiar with the legacy of family division - this parsha shows us just how it starts, and our rabbinic tradition details how far it can go and for how long. Let us then work to heal these rifts we contemplate. Perhaps we would rather flee the situation, as did Yaakov, and hide ourselves among our kin - but we do not call ourselves Am Yaakov. We know ourselves as the one who struggles and overcomes and does not flee - we call ourselves Am Yisrael.

By Rabbi Jonathan Siger, Campus Rabbi, University of Florida

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Toledot at MyJewishLearning.com.

This week's parashah, Chayei-Sarah, can be found in Genesis:23:1-25:18. Called the "Sarah's life" the section deals first with Sarah's death and burial and then introduces her replacement, Rebecca. While some commentators have seen an implied criticism of Abraham in Sarah's death being spoken of immediately following on the "Akedah" or "Binding of Isaac," another interpretation of this section might be to view Sarah's life as a model for a monogamy.

Sarah's life could not have been easy. Throughout her marriage, she was forced to relocate, to endure the advances of other men, the humiliations and taunts of her servant, Hagar, and years of bareness in a society that counted the value of a woman by the number of sons she bore. The text implies that Sarah, like Abraham would endure a number of trials if she was to become the "mother" of the Jewish people. Nothing would come easy and nothing would be simple.

Just as Abraham's understanding of G-d develops, so too does his understanding of the depths of his relationship with Sarah. We might even ask if there is not a relationship between the development of monotheism and of monogamy.

The week's parashah reminds us that Torah provides us not just with a first "father" but with a first "couple." Despite the many crises that Sarah and Abraham endured throughout their marriage, their marriage did survive. Indeed, Abraham is highly dependent on Sarah's wisdom and advice.

This section than may be viewed not just as a pastoral accounting of Sarah's burial but as a paradigm for the living Jewish home: its the ability to grow in love, to respect the other, to depend on one's partner, and to forgive the other. In that sense, "Chayei Sarah: Sarah's Life" is most a most appropriate name for this week's Torah portion for Sarah's wisdom is not buried in the cave of the Machpelah but continues to challenge us even today.

Prepared by Peter Tarlow, Texas A&M Hillel.

Sometimes the relevance of our texts to us is not apparent. The text may not seem clear or applicable to us today. Yet every line and every sentence in our text has meaning to us. While we often must toil to find the text's significance to our lives, there are some Torah portions in which we can find a clear message, such as in this week's Torah portion, Parshat Vayishlach. We learn a lot about Jacob's personality and about the numerous challenges he had to face.

Here is one of the more astonishing moments in Jacob's life:

Genesis 32:25-29
And Jacob was left alone; and there wrestled a man with him until the breaking of the day. And when he saw that he prevailed not against him, he touched the hollow of his thigh; and the hollow of Jacob's thigh was out of joint, as he wrestled with him. And he said, let me go, for the daybreaks. And he said, I will not let you go, except you bless me. And the man said to him, what is your name? And he said, Jacob. And the man said, your name should be called no more Jacob, but Israel; for as a prince you have power with God and with men, and have prevailed.

Your Torah navigator
1. Who was the "man" Jacob fought with?
2. What does the sun have to do with the "man's" request to leave (was he a vampire)?
3. How can the "man" change Jacob's name?
4. Can we change our names this way?

The Zohar brings out some facts about the fight between Jacob and the "man":

Zohar, Genesis, Section 1, Page 146a (Gen. XXXII, 25-26)
Observe how great Jacob's merit must have been. For his adversary was intent on destroying him completely. Samael thus came and attacked him, in order to destroy him utterly. Jacob, however, had strong support on all sides, on the side of Isaac and on the side of Abraham, both of who constituted the strength of Jacob. When Samael attacked Jacob's right he saw there Abraham equipped with the strength of day, being of the side of the Right, the same being Mercy (Hesed). When he attacked his left, he saw there Isaac with the strength of stern judgment. When he attacked in front, he found Jacob strong on either side by reason of those surrounding him.

Your Zohar navigator
1. Who is Samael? Who does he represent? Why did Samael attack Jacob?
2. What makes Abraham a man of Mercy? What makes Isaac so judgmental?
3. How do Isaac's and Abraham's attributes affect Jacob?

A Word
Jacob, father of the twelve tribes, has the most fascinating life. Everything seems to happen to him, for example: He deceived his father in order to get the blessings from him with his mother's guidance. He ran away from home for fear of his own brother with both of his parents' recommendation. He had the world's worst father-in-law, whom he manages to outsmart, with the help of his wives. He had a fight with an angel (which he survived thanks to sunrise). He had a warm welcome from his brother and four hundred "friends." He had a daughter who was raped by a prince and two sons who take revenge on the prince and the entire city. And to top it all, Jacob's favorite child was kidnapped and sold to Egyptians by his other children (without his knowledge).

Jacob, like every other human being, has to deal with life, and cannot avoid it. In most cases, he has to take action, which we all know is not always a simple task. Even if we try to get into Jacob's shoes, we realize quickly enough that he had to have been quite a person. He had to be a cunning man, a wise man, a kind man, a caring man, a politician, a father, a brother and a husband. We need to understand that Jacob had all of these attributes and that he struggled with his life to become the true father of our people. Jacob's fathers (Isaac and Abraham) had their own respective trials but Jacob's trials are much more "real life" ones. They encompass all aspects of life from birth to death, happiness and sadness, good and evil. And all of his tribulations have to do with familial issues.

The lesson we learn from Jacob is not an easy one. We have to work hard on this lesson to make it our own. We have to be ready, to be prepared, to be vigilant, and to care enough to change our environment for the better. The most important part of this task is learning how to better our Jewish "family."

Jacob's first and foremost responsibility is to his family. All of his actions had to do with his family. Regardless of how he manages it, it's all about the family's future! It is the same for us today, thousands of years later. We have to be ready to help our collective family - Jews around the world. We cannot close our eyes to their needs. It does not matter whether they are in Israel, England or Argentina. When our fellow Jews are in trouble, it is our obligation as Jews to care and take action to help our brothers and sisters.

Prepared by Rabbi Meni Even-Israel, Campus Rabbi/Jewish Educator, University of Maryland, College Park.

Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Miketz at MyJewishLearning.com.

Hagar, Abraham and Sarah's Egyptian servant, is one of the first wanderers in the Torah. We learn in earlier chapters of Genesis that when Sarah cannot bear children herself, she sends her husband to Hagar with the understanding that a child born from this union would be considered her own. When Hagar does become pregnant, a power struggle ensues between the two women and Hagar runs away from her mistress. She flees to the desert and examines her life in this place often associated with introspection. After being spoken to by an angel of G-d, she returns to endure her difficult lot for years. During that time, Hagar gives birth to Ishmael, and Sarah finally has a child herself, Isaac. When tensions resurface, Sarah banishes Hagar and Ishmael from her house.

We read in Gen.21:14-21 that once again, Hagar finds herself wandering about in the desert. When their water has run out and the boy is nearing death, an angel again comes to Hagar and tells her that G-d has "heeded the voice of the boy where he is [ba'asher hu sham]", and they are subsequently saved by the appearance of a well of water. What does the Torah mean by saying that G-d heeded the voice of the boy where he is? The Torah seems to give us extraneous words here, since it would make perfect sense to simply say that G-d "heeded the voice of the boy."

A midrash from Bereshit Rabbah on this verse [53:14] offers one explanation. We learn here of an argument that occurred at this moment between the angels and G-d. The angels try to convince G-d not to help Ishmael, seeing that the deeds of his people will be hazardous to the Israelites later on in history. But G-d asks the angels, "What is he now?" G-d wants them to describe Ishmael's character at that instant. They answer that he is righteous. The midrash continues with G-d's reply: "I judge man only as he is at the moment."

Your Midrash Navigator:
1. During the High Holy days, we examine our lives over the past year and the decisions we have made in the hopes that we will improve our behavior in the coming year. How is this different than the sentiment expressed here? Can it be helpful to envision a G-d who judges us solely by our actions in the present moment?
2. We are often our own toughest critics. If the idea of a G-d who judges us does not resonate with you, try examining how you judge yourself. Do you continually beat up on yourself for personal shortcomings or do you focus on bettering yourself from moment to moment?
3. How can we focus more on what we are in this very instant than who we were or will become? How do we treat other people with whom we come in contact during our daily routine? How do we treat ourselves? In this moment are we fully present? When someone is talking to us, are we really listening?

A Word:
G-d judges us where we are - moment by moment. We often get caught up in trying to anticipate every move and outcome of our actions, but in fact all we can truly effect is the present moment by making decisions that reflect our values. By focusing on each step of our lives at a time, we imitate G-d by judging ourselves only in that moment, just as G-d judged Ishmael based only on his character at that single instant.

Prepared by Rabbi Mychal Copeland, campus rabbi, Hillel at Stanford.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Va'yera at MyJewishLearning.com.

Chanukah begins tonight and Jews all over the world will gather around the Menorah and light one candle tonight for the first night of Chanukah. We take it for granted that we light one candle on the first night, two the second and so on, but it could have been different.

In the Talmud in the Tractate of Shabbat (page 21b), we find a discussion of how one ought to light the Chanukah candles. In the text there we find a debate between the famous Jewish legal combatants Hillel and Shammai. According to Shammai, we are to light eight candles the first night and light one less each successive night, corresponding with the nights which remain. Hillel suggests starting with one candle and working our way up each night corresponding with the nights that have passed. As we all well know, we follow the custom of Hillel and the reason given in the Talmud in support of this custom is the phrase, ma'alin b'kodesh v'ain moridin. This means "We go up in matters of holiness and not down."

I have always found this teaching inspiring. We are instructed to ascend in matters of holiness and not to descend. We can understand this saying to mean that throughout our days, we must constantly strive to increase the amount of holiness our lives contain.

I originally imagined this continuum of personal holiness to look something like an incline, starting low as we begin our spiritual journey's and we work our way ever onwards and upwards in our lives. However, most of our lives paths don't look like inclines; they probably look more like roller coasters. We climb, we plunge, and every now and then we are even thrown for a loop. If that is the case how can we live out the idea of ever increasing in holiness? If we look at this weeks Torah portion Miketz, and last week's Vayeshev, we can see a boy who in becoming a man, go through ups and downs, but manages to climb the ladder of holiness.

That character is Joseph. He begins his life the beloved son of the wealthy and powerful Jacob. Joseph's life is good; he is even the best-dressed kid in town, since his father made him a fancy coat. However after a pair of self-centered dreams the next thing he knows Joseph has gone from the top to the bottom as he winds up in a pit when his brothers decided to sell him into slavery.

Joseph becomes the servant of one of Pharaoh's courtiers, Potiphar. Things go well for Joseph and he becomes the most trusted servant in the household. Things take a turn when his master's wife becomes attracted to Joseph and her jealous husband sends Joseph to prison.

It is in prison that Joseph meets and interprets dreams for the wine steward and the baker of Pharaoh. This chance meeting will have lasting consequences since it is the success of his dream interpretation which eventually gets him out of prison and into the palace when Pharaoh himself needs some dreams interpreted.

Joseph's life though hopefully more extreme than most of ours, is certainly a rollercoaster ride. Yet upon closer examination, we can see the idea of ever increasing holiness come through in his actions. A few years back in an article in Nehardeah a magazine of the Hebrew University Professor Avigdor Shinan does a close reading of the Joseph narratives. In the article we find that with each set of dreams that Joseph encounters, Joseph becomes more aware of God. When we read of Joseph's own two dreams there is no mention of God. However, when Joseph is in prison and encounters the wine steward and the baker he says "Surely God can interpret you dreams." Finally in this week's portion Miketz we read that when Joseph is summoned before the Pharaoh, that he claims to be acting on God's behalf and he mentions God about five times in this incident. In fact the most telling moment is Joseph's answer to Pharaoh's request for the interpretation of his dream. In Genesis 41:16 we read "Joseph answered Pharaoh, saying, 'Not I! God will see to Pharaoh's welfare." Rashi explains that in that moment Joseph confesses that the wisdom is not his own but rather the words of God.

We can see that despite Joseph's ups and downs, he maintains faith and allows God into his life and ultimately Joseph considers it his mission to carry out God's will. In this way we too can be "m'alin b'kodesh," even if we go up and down we can try to allow holiness into our lives. We can do this through prayer, through study and through the performance of mitzvot which allow us to act on God's behalf in our world. If we allow ourselves to rise in holiness our lives can be like the Menorah, ever increasing in light.

Prepared by David Levy, rabbi and advisor of the Colgate University Jewish Union.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Miketz at MyJewishLearning.com.

What does Judaism teach about angels? What role do they have in our lives? Our biblical ancestors interacted with angels. This is especially true for Jacob. A number of times in his life, Jacob receives guidance from God through an angel. For example, in this week's Torah portion, Vayeitze, Jacob leaves home on his way to Haran. The first night of the trip, Jacob makes camp and lays his head upon a stone pillow. Soon he dreams of angels traveling up and down a ladder stretching from the ground to the sky. Why angels? What do they have to do with God and Judaism? The text of the Torah (Genesis 28:10-15) gives us some answers:

"Jacob left Beer-sheba, and set out for Haran. He came upon a certain place and stopped there for the night, for the sun had set. Taking one of the stones of that place, he put it under his head and lay down in that place. He had a dream; a stairway was set on the ground and its top reached to the sky, and angels of God were going up and down on it. And the Lord was standing beside him and God said, "I am the Lord, the God of your father Abraham and the God of Isaac: the ground on which you are lying I will assign to your and to your offspring. Your descendants shall be as the dust of the earth; you shall spread out to the west and to the east, to the north and to the south. All the families of the earth shall bless themselves by you and your descendants. Remember, I am with you: I will protect you wherever you go and will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you."

The angels in Jacob's dream get his attention and prepare the way for Jacob to hear God's message. Later in this same Torah portion, Jacob tells Leah and Rachel of another angelic dream. That vision helps Jacob understand how to be an effective shepherd and get optimal growth from his flocks. Thus, we learn that one of the roles of angels in the Torah is to transmit a message. We learn this not only from the story, but from the Hebrew word for an angel, malach, or "one who carries a message."

The angels of Jacob's dream help him to be ready to hear God's message of comfort and hope. Jacob awakens and says, "Surely the Lord was in this place, and I did not know it!" Shaken, he says, "How awesome is this place! This is none other than the abode of God, and that is the gateway to heaven." (Genesis 28:16-17) Jacob awakens with the realization of God's presence in his life.

Angels enable Jacob to connect with God. From Psalms 8 we learn that God made angels slightly superior to human beings, slightly closer to God. A midrash (traditional rabbinic story) relates that while the angels are naturally closer to God on a pure spiritual level, they lack free-will, a core aspect of being human. God's angelic messengers traverse spiritual space, helping us connect to God, to Judaism and to one another. A popular Shabbat song, Shalom Aleichem, invites angels to personally celebrate Shabbat with us, traveling with us, entering our homes, being with us throughout the week. We have the exciting opportunity to invite the angels to walk with us on the path of life.

God and the angels are part of our lives, even when we feel distant from either or both of them. As we approach the end of the first semester, many of us are busy with exams, papers, and projects. This time has the potential to be full of stress and worry. I invite you to take a quick respite from your work, lean back and take a deep breath. Remember that you are not alone. Your friends, classmates, Hillel family, staff and entire community are with you - alongside the angels.

Jacob's journey takes him to some unforeseen places. He begins with a vision of angels and a message from God, and this reminds him that he is not alone. Jacob's life journey remains unknown to him at this point, but he has the courage and hope to step forward. As you step forward into your exams, projects, vacation, work or other activities, take the steps with the comforting knowledge that God and the angels are by your side.

Prepared by Amy Greenbaum, executive director & rabbinic resource, Hillel at Miami University of Ohio.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Vayeytze at MyJewishLearning.com.

Last week, the father of the Jewish people, Jacob, messed up big time. He schemed with his mother and deceived his father to get his brother's first-born birthright. Then he ran away, met Laban, fell in love with Rachel, worked for seven years, married Leah by mistake, worked another seven years and finally married Rachel. When we meet Jacob this week in Parshat Vayishlach, he is living with his father-in-law, Laban, his wives, Rachel and Leah, their 13 children and a large camp of servants and animals.

At the beginning of this week's parsha, Jacob is about to return to his homeland to see his brother for the first time in many years. Naturally, he is scared to see Esau, as it was his brother's birthright that caused Jacob's departure. He becomes more frightened when he hears that his brother will be meeting him with 400 men. He is so terrified that he splits his camp into two parts, separating his flocks, herds, camels, servants, children and wives so that in case Esau were to attack him, he would only lose half of his possessions. Then Jacob begins to pray:

"O God of my father Abraham and God of my father Isaac, O Lord, who has said to me, 'Return to your native land and I will deal bountifully with you' - Deliver me, I pray, from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Esau; else, I fear, he may come and strike me down, mothers and children alike. Yet You have said, 'I will deal bountifully with you and make your offspring as the sands of the sea, which are too numerous to count.'" (Gen. 32:10-13)

Why does Jacob pray so fervently when he knows that he did something wrong? He knowingly and maliciously stole Esau's birthright - what right does he have to beg God for help? What kind of behavior is this from our patriarch and leader of the Israelites?

Jacob's actions are not unusual. How many times do we knowingly and willingly leave things to the last minute and then ask God for special help at the 11th hour? As a Steinhardt JCSC Fellow, it always amuses me to see my students walk into Hillel looking for a blessing for an exam they didn't study for or a paper they didn't finish. Can God really solve a problem that we did not work to solve ourselves? When asking for forgiveness, can we count on God if we don't count on ourselves?

Jacob's story can teach us an important lesson when it comes to asking for forgiveness. One cannot simply pray without personal action. Jacob, along with his fervent prayer to God, also plans for his meeting with Esau. He prepares for the reunion by sending men ahead and dividing his camp in half. He does not depend on God alone to save him from his own mess; rather, he plans the best he can and puts his faith in God. He also personally apologizes to his brother, offering gifts and falling at his feet. When we ask for forgiveness from another person, we must first do the hard work of apologizing and asking for forgiveness. Only once we have done that work can we ask for help from God. But no matter what we've done, and no matter how long it's been, we always can pray for a little extra help and eventually be forgiven.

Prepared by Karen Perolman, Steinhardt JCSC Fellow, Rutgers University Hillel.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Vayishlach at MyJewishLearning.com.

Genesis 6:9-13, 18-19, 22

"These are the begettings of Noah. Noah was a righteous, wholehearted man in his generation; in accord with God did Noah walk. Noah begot three sons: Shem, Ham and Yefet. Now the earth had gone to ruin before God, the earth was filled with wrongdoing. God saw the earth and here: it had gone to ruin, for all flesh had ruined its way upon the earth. God said to Noah: An end of all flesh has come before me, for the earth is filled with wrongdoing through them; here, I am about to bring ruin upon them, along with the earth. ... But I will establish my covenant with you: you are to come into the Ark, you and your sons and your wife and your sons' wives with you, and from all living-things, from all flesh, you are to bring two from all into the Ark to remain alive with you. They are to be a male and a female (each)... Noah did it, according to all that God commanded him, so he did."

Your Torah Navigator

1. Why does the Torah interrupt the description of Noah's begettings with the statement that Noah was a righteous man?
2. The text doesn't mention Noah's relationship with the people around him. Can you read between the lines and describe what it might have been like?
3. What might have been God's reasons for telling Noah what was about to happen?

Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berdichev (1740-1810) wrote in his Torah commentary, Kedushat Levi, about four kinds of righteous people. The first serves God with great devotion, but is content to concentrate on his/her own spiritual growth. The second kind of tzadik both serves God and strives to bring others, even the wicked, closer to God as well. The third tzadik, does not recognize his or her spiritual power and does not attempt to change God's decrees, while the fourth tzadik has the spiritual awareness and inner humility to argue humbly with God to reverse a Divine judgment.

Your Levi Yitzchak Navigator

1. What kind of righteous person is Noah?
2. How would you rank these four kinds of tzadiks? How does this ranking impact the way you think of Noah?
3. How much ego does a righteous person need?

(For more material from Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berdichev, look at David R. Blumenthal's book, "God at the Center.")

A Word

There is a responsibility that comes along with being a spiritual person. Noah was certainly a righteous man - he walked with God, but he walked alone; he did not plead with God to save the world or warn his neighbors about their impending doom. Judaism judges Noah as less righteous than Abraham because Abraham was concerned with others' needs, even to the point of arguing with God to save a town full of wicked people. The most righteous person tried to make things better within his/her own soul but also in the larger world. The righteous person believes in his or her own power to make a difference. Sometimes that is all we need to make it happen.

Prepared by Rabbi Lisa L. Goldstein, Executive Director, Hillel of San Diego

It's too bad we get only a week for this parsha. It's jam-packed.
Take a look at what we have here:

- the promise of a son for Sarah and the birth of Isaac
- the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah
- Lot, his daughters, and too much alcohol
- the abduction of Sarah
- the expulsion of Hagar and Ishmael
- the binding of Isaac

I pick out only two parts to highlight here.

One is the colossal confrontation between Abraham and God over the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. God chooses to inform His friend Abraham of His plans to do this, but Abraham objects. "Will you destroy the righteous along with the wicked? ... Shall not the Judge of all the earth deal justly" (Genesis 18: 23 and 25)

These are astounding questions. They provoke further ones that we need to ask and try to answer: Why does God choose to consult with Abraham in the first place? Would not God, being God, be quite enfranchised to operate unilaterally?

Could it be that God needs or wants Abraham's approval? That God needs man as much as man needs God? It's clear that the Torah, and the whole Bible for that matter, makes it clear that the relationship between God and man is a two-way street. That's why Abraham argues with God. It is one of the most glorious aspects of our tradition that we can argue with God! Check out the book of Job for the full development of this point.

Another "not to be missed" part of this parsha is, of course, the story of the binding of Isaac (the Akedah). No story in the Bible, no story in world literature, has attracted more commentary than this one, and for good reason. The text is unbelievably laconic - it reports the actions of Abraham and Isaac but never tells us what they were thinking. Those gaps are for the reader to fill in.

What's the point of this story anyway? That faith in God, submitting to God's command, overrides everything - even the life of one's child? That the God of the Torah does not want human sacrifice?

Another thing: What happened to Isaac? Father and son went to Mt. Moriah together, but only Abraham returned (v. 19).

And where was Sarah? What was her take on all this? We neither see nor hear a thing about her.

Considered in contemporary terms, the story is troubling. I always wonder: Was this child abuse? Must the younger generation always be sacrificed to the vision their parents impose on them? The Stanford anthropologist Carol Delaney wrote a whole book on the Akedah as a signature story for Judaism, Christianity and Islam ("Abraham on Trial," 1998). At the end of her study, she asks: "Why is the willingness to sacrifice the child, rather than the passionate protection of the child, at the foundation of faith? I ask that people imagine how our society would have evolved if protection of the child had been the model of faith" (252f).

Prepared by Rabbi James S. Diamond, senior consultant to the Meyerhoff Center

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Va'yera at MyJewishLearning.com.

Now Joseph was the vizier of the land; it was he who dispensed rations to all the people of the land. And Joseph's brothers came and bowed low to him, with their faces to the ground. When Joseph saw his brothers, he recognized them; but he acted like a stranger toward them and spoke harshly to them. He asked them, "Where do you come from?" They said, "From the land of Canaan, to procure food." For though Joseph recognized his brothers, they did not recognize him. Recalling the dreams he had dreamt about them, Joseph said to them, "You are spies. You have come to see the land in its nakedness."

Your Torah Navigator

1. How do you think Joseph felt, seeing his brothers who had sold him into slavery and remembering his dream that they would one day bow down to him?

2. The words "recognize" (hikir) and "acted like a stranger" (hitnaker) have the same root in Hebrew (nun, kaf, resh). If Joseph knew his brothers, why did he pretend not to? Why does the Torah use variations of the same word to describe this?

3. Why didn't Joseph reveal himself if only to let his father know that he was alive and well?

A Word

Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berdichev (1740-1810) teaches that it is a sign of Joseph's righteousness that he did not immediately reveal himself. Joseph realized that it would be humiliating to his brothers if they knew that he had prevailed over them and that despite their cruel treatment of him, his dream of power had come true. By making himself a stranger, he made it appear that his brothers were simply bowing to a king, sparing them the pain of humiliation. Levi Yitzchak says this is also the reason Joseph didn't send word to his father; he wanted to spare his brothers the bitterness of defeat. Thus the pretense of being a stranger was in fact an act of kindness.

Kindness often seems to be a precious and rare thing. It is doubtful that the brothers experienced Joseph as being kind, given his harsh speech and subsequent actions to them; they must have felt very afraid and in darkness. Perhaps what Levi Yitzchak is teaching us is not how we should act ourselves, but rather how we should interpret other's actions towards us. It is difficult to follow Joshua ben Parachyah's admonition to judge everyone favorably (Pirkei Avot 1:6), but Levi Yitzchak reminds us that we can't always be sure of another person's motives. We may think that someone is treating us badly, when in fact, they are trying to protect us from something worse. In assuming the best of others and reacting kindly ourselves, we have the opportunity to add holiness to the world, just as we do by increasing the number of Chanukah lights each night.

May this portion and this holiday remind us to bring more light and more kindness to those around us!

Prepared by Rabbi Lisa Goldstein, Hillels of San Diego.

"At a time when modern culture enforces the separation of Church and State, religion and faith seem to have taken a second role in our society. Our generation is forced to both actively practice faith or completely leave it behind."

It was last Thursday night when this quote came across my desk. I was leafing through reflections from the 33 student participants in the Interfaith Dialogue Project that I have been privileged to facilitate this past semester. This week the group of Jewish, Muslim and Christian students debated the role of faith in society, particularly as it relates to their own college-aged generation. This student so concisely summed up the mood in the room - the tension that this unique group of religiously observant students on campus felt, negotiating between their beliefs, and the decisions they make daily living as 18-21 year olds in College Park, Maryland. They vented about their own spiritual journeys, some far more confident than their fellow students still questioning their beliefs and wondering if they even have a place at the table of a faith-based dialogue.

While recent data may suggest that the high level of doubt and discomfort with traditional faith institutions among college-aged students is unique to this generation, questioning one's beliefs has been common throughout time. In this week's parsha, Toldot (literally generations), we learn about one such example of questioning and exploration as the third generation of Jews enters the world.

In Toldot, we are introduced to Jacob and his twin brother Esau. The story begins with the marriage of Isaac and Rebecca. After 20 childless years of marriage their prayers are answered and Rebecca gives birth to the twins - Jacob following Esau, grabbing onto his heel. Esau grows up to be "a cunning hunter, a man of the field," while Jacob is "a wholesome man" and a dweller in the tents of learning. One day, upon returning tired and hungry from the fields, Esau sells his rights as the first born to Jacob for a pot of red lentil soup.

Jacob is favored by Rebecca, while their father Isaac loves Esau. As Isaac ages, he wishes to bless Esau with his birthright before he dies. While Esau goes off to hunt for his father's favorite food, Rebecca disguises Jacob as Esau, covering his skin with fur to simulate the feel of his hairier brother, and sends Jacob to his father with the favorite dish. Fooled by the disguise, Jacob receives his fathers' blessings for "the dew of the heaven and the fat of the land " and mastery over his brother. When Esau returns and the deception is revealed, all Isaac can do for his distraught son is to predict that he will live by his sword, and that if ever necessary, the younger brother will forfeit his supremacy over the elder. Jacob leaves home to escape the wrath of his brother and to find a wife among the family of his uncle Laban.

While Toldot teaches us a great deal about the grandchildren of Abraham, and their stories as they grew into biblical leaders in their own right, these famous twins offer us insight into basic Jewish values even before they were born. Rebecca's pregnancy with the twins was not an easy one. These divinely-granted children struggled in her womb, and she cried out to God, "If so, why do I exist?" She asks God why she feels fighting within her. Isaac and Rebecca's prayers and demonstrations of faith result positively with fertility, but negatively with the painful pregnancy. Could Rebecca's cry of despair be a questioning or even rejection of her earlier faith in God?

Rashi, a medieval Jewish commentator, does not think so. He explains that Rebecca's "why me" exclamation can be read as, "If the pain of pregnancy be so great, why is it that I longed and prayed to be pregnant?" From Rashi's perspective, Rebecca does not doubt God, rather herself for having longed for so many years to become pregnant. Rashi warns us not to doubt God's intentions, rather to be careful for what we wish for in the first place.

But Ramban disagrees with Rashi and argues that Rebecca's cry is in fact indicative of her own questioning of faith and God. According to Ramban, Rebecca is unable to cope, and questions her own existence on earth, and in doing so questions the destiny that God has laid out for her. She cannot comprehend why God's plan for her involves such pain, and this forces her to question God's actions.

Questions have long been at the heart of Judaism. "From the inception of Judaism, questions are used to elicit important information and to challenge," says Rabbi Joseph Telushkin, author of the book, A Code of Jewish Ethics. Genesis is filled with questions: when God asks Adam "Where are you?" or when God asks Cain, "Where is your brother Abel?" These questions were God's attempt not simply to gather information from Adam and Cain, but to challenge these men. God clearly challenges Rebecca with the difficult birth, and Rebecca's questioning of God demonstrates her own challenging of faith, God, and of herself.

In Rebecca's case her question results in answers. God answers Rebecca's cry with, "There are two nations in your womb," and that the younger will prevail over the elder. Rebecca is to mother two future nations. Her pain, doubt, and questioning aside, Rebecca gives birth to the twins, raises her children, and takes the appropriate steps to help Isaac prevail over his older brother.

Similar to young people today, Rebecca's questioning may reveal her doubts about faith and her place in it. Rebecca was comfortable to reaffirm her commitment to faith, rather than leaving it behind. Today those decisions may not come as easily, particularly when many believe that the opportunities to participate in the religious world are not so black and white. What we do learn from Rebecca is that though the answers to our own personal explorations may be more challenging than the questions themselves, we too should accept the challenges life brings us. And as another student in the dialogue says, "Remember, there is no right or wrong when it comes to faith. Explore. Find yourself. And once you find what's important to you, don't let it go."

Written by Julie Finkelstein, Jewish Student Life Coordinator at the University of Maryland Hillel

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Toledot at MyJewishLearning.com.

OK, this is getting ugly. Joseph has dreams about his brothers bowing down to him. The brothers truly hate him, tear off his coat of many colors (an "amazing Technicolor dreamcoat," as per Andrew Lloyd Webber) and leave him for dead. Donny Osmond's voice is ringing in my ears. Or was it David Cassidy?

Poor Joseph. At his father's request, he leaves his home in Hebron and travels to Shechem (Nablus, to CNN) to check on his brothers. The Torah tells us: "And they hated him... and they continued to hate him even more." A fire of hate and jealously raged inside of them. As he approached, they roared "here comes the dreamer, now let's get him and kill him."

If we have learned anything throughout our history, it's that Sinat Chinam - "Hatred for no reason" - is the mother of all our exiles and destructions. It is the story of hatred in this week's parsha that leads to the Jewish people's enslavement in Egypt.

Rabbi Menachem Sacks of Chicago, the grandson of Rabbi Zvi Pesach Frank, the great chief rabbi of Jerusalem, draws our attention to an eerie Talmudic passage (Megilah 16) relating to next week's parsha and connects it to our story this week. We turn to Parshat Vayigash next week, and the story of the brothers rediscovering Joseph in Egypt, as a Grand Vizier: "And Joseph cried on the neck of Benjamin his brother, and Benjamin cried on Joseph's." The Talmud explains that Joseph cried for the two temples that are to be destroyed in the future, whose location is in the portion of land allotted to the tribe of Benjamin, and Benjamin cries for the Mishkan in Shilo, which will be destroyed while sitting on Joseph's sons' parcel of land. It seems that both Joseph and Benjamin, Jacob's two youngest, understood that the strong and bitter poison of hate and jealousy will be the downfall of the Jewish people, both spiritual and material. It is no coincidence, says Rabbi Sacks, that the corresponding Haftorah to this week's parsha is a further portent of things to come.

One of the more fun Torah games we play in our family is to ask the kids to find the intended correlation between the weekly five books of Moses portion and the weekly Prophets/Scriptures portion known as the Haftorah. Vayeshev's Haftorah is taken from the book of the prophet Amos, who warns in Chapter 2, "so said God: On the first three sins of Israel I will forgive them, but on the fourth I will not." For the first three big sins - idol worship, adultery and murder - God will ultimately forgive the children of Israel and allow a second temple to be built. On the fourth - Sinat Chinam, or hatred for no reason - there is no negotiating. And so we wait, now thousands of years and counting, for the next temple to be built. Chalk it all up to "hatred for no reason" between brothers.

"Jewish history as Jewish destiny" is a frequent theme in the writings of Rabbi Ari Kahn, one of Aish Hatorah's leading teachers and one of the great engagement professionals in Jerusalem today. The author of two remarkable books (on the weekly parsha and on the meaning of the Jewish holidays), Rabbi Kahn finds this theme once again in this week's story of Joseph and his brothers. True to the spirit of a good Broadway show, Rabbi Kahn "takes it from the top."

"Vayeishev Yaakov b'eretz migurei aveev" - and Jacob settled in the land where his forefathers dwelled. Wow, the questions are racing through our minds already. Why did Abraham and Isaac "dwell" but Jacob "settle"? Is one better than the other? Would I rather be a settler or a dweller? (It's an apolitical question here.) Rashi explains that to dwell is a temporary state without a final resting place, but to settle infers that one has come to live in peace and tranquility. So what's the problem? Rashi introduces us to a Midrash from Bereshit Rabah that explains that "Jacob was upset, because he wished to settle in tranquility, but the episode of Joseph we're about to read confronted him." More questions, says Rabbi Kahn: What does this mean? Did Jacob truly expect to retire from active patriarchal service and enjoy the golden years? Furthermore, how could Jacob possibly think that tranquility or spiritual perfection could be manifested at this particular junction in history? Did God not previously promise Avraham (Bereshit 15) that his descendants would be enslaved for 400 years? And what's the deal with Jacob taking early retirement?

It's clear that out of the blue, Jacob's world view was shattered by the saga of Joseph and his brothers. Oftentimes, our own world views face the same fate as a result of unacceptably hostile attitudes between some of our Jewish brothers and sisters. Quoting Rabbi Kahn: "The narratives of Bereshit are more than stories. The vicissitudes of our forefathers are far more than ancient tales; they are spiritual realities pregnant with meaning, forming the fabric of Jewish history."

"Ma'aseh avot siman lebanim" - The deeds of the forefathers are signs to us, their sons and daughters. Jacob's tranquility will have to wait, as will ours.

Prepared by Robert Katz, Director of Development, New York Region

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Vayeshev at MyJewishLearning.com.

Amalek is the archetypal enemy of Jewish consciousness. The villain Haman is an heir to Amalek's murderous designs. Traditionally, any mortal threat to the Jewish people is referred to as Amalek.

In Genesis 36:12 the following verse introduces the birth of the character who will prove to be the nemesis of Israel.

"Now Timna was concubine to Elifaz son of Esav, and she bore AMALEK to Elifaz. These are the sons of Ada, Esav's wife."

Somewhat later a verse gives us the background on Amalek's mother: "And the children of Lotan were Hori and Hemam; and Lotan's sister was Timna." (Genesis 36:22)

And a little later the verse tells us some details about Lotan: "These are the chiefs who came of the Horites; the chief Lotan, the chief Shobal, the chief Zibeon, the chief Anah," (Genesis 36:29)

Your Torah Navigator

1. If you had to create a story from these verses of why Amalek became the tribe most dedicated to destroying Israel, how would you do it?

2. Timna was the sister of a Canaanite chieftain. Is it strange for her to settle for being a concubine? Why would she do such a thing?

3. How would Amalek respond to his mother's inferior concubine status knowing that she came from princes?

A Word

Amalek's inauspicious origins are mentioned in the Torah without fanfare and without any explicitly ominous foreshadowing. We know little of Timna and Lotan, but we do know that they came from prominent people and that Timna accepted a lower status to be the concubine of Elifaz, Esav's son.

There are two possibilities for why she did this. One, because she loved Elifaz so desperately that she was willing to accept any relationship he was prepared to offer. Or, two, it was greater in her eyes to be a concubine in this family than it was to be of higher status in her own clan.

The midrash (Genesis Raba 82:14) notices this and claims that being from the seed of Sarah and Abraham was so prestigious, that such a leap was not outrageous. The midrash, however, does not answer why Amalek emerged from Elifaz and his concubine.

Timna joined Elifaz, according to the midrash, for reasons of status, to be part of a powerful, but not necessarily a spiritual people. Maybe she perceived that this family, this clan would ultimately rule and she was willing to sacrifice her personal dignity in order to be attached to a people even if her connection would be a servile one.

Any child reared in such a union would certainly have bitter feelings for the family who did not entirely accept his mother. The seeds of enmity were sown at that moment.

One can imagine her saying to Amalek, "I was not always a concubine, you should know I once came from princes." The sacrifice that Timna made was one that cost Israel, a fledging people at the time, dearly when they were tired and thirsty in the desert. Remember it was the tribe of Amalek who ambushed Israel in the desert.

Timna made a choice which disenfranchised her son and generations later his progeny, the seed of Amalek wage war against the seed of Abraham, as well as the God of Abraham. Amalek's anger cannot countenance the fact that his mother is the one who chose her station. Just as Elifaz could have chosen to deny her any place among his people.

In the desert, when the seed of Amalek is ambushing a tired and weary seed of Abraham, one can hear Amalek's taunts: "Let's see how noble you are now!"

I've heard it said that everything is political, but I disagree. Everything is personal.

Unfortunately, we live in a time of war. President Bush has declared war on all terrorists. Prime Minister Sharon has called the actions of the Palestinians against Israel "acts of war." But how does a Jew fight a war. SHOULD we fight war at all? Our Parsha has much to tell us in answering these questions.

Jacob feared for his life when he was about to meet his brother Esau. Esau wanted to kill Jacob for "stealing" his birthright. Clearly, Jacob approached Esau defensively. Commenting on this story and about Torah stories in general, Nachmanides (on Genesis 32:4) and others state that "Maase Avot Siman Libanim – the actions of the fathers are a sign for their descendants," that many Biblical stories, notably this one, are foreshadows of all of Jewish history, predicting similar events that will occur later to the descendants of Jacob and Esau. Thus, the battle between these two brothers is a symbol for future wars between Jews and non-Jews. With this in mind, we may learn from the Jacob story some specifics on how to fight a "Jewish" war today.

Genesis 32:8-16

Then Jacob was greatly afraid and distressed; and he divided the people who were with him, and the flocks, and herds, and the camels, in two bands; And said, If Esau comes to the one company, and attacks it, then the other company which is left shall escape. And Jacob said, O God of my father Abraham, and God of my father Isaac, the Lord who said to me, Return to your country, and to your family, and I will deal well with you... Save me, I beseech You, from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Esau; for I fear him, lest he will come and strike me, and the mother with the children... And he lodged there that same night; and took of that which came to his hand a present for Esau his brother; Two hundred female goats, and twenty male goats, two hundred ewes, and twenty rams, Thirty milch camels with their colts, forty cows, and ten bulls, twenty female asses, and ten foals.

Your Torah Navigator

1. What three different actions did Jacob do in preparing for his encounter with Esau?

2. Based on the verses and logic, what do you think was the order of these three actions?

3. How can we apply Jacob's actions to the values of fighting war today?

A Word

Rashi (commentary to Genesis 32:8) and other commentaries, based on the above text, say that he prepared in three distinct ways: through gifts of appeasement for Esau, through prayer, and through preparations for actual battle. Thus, we can infer that these three preparations are legitimate Jewish methods of readying for and fighting a war. The first step is to try to avoid war completely by trying to appease the adversary, if possible. Simultaneously, Jews should pray for God's assistance to avert the war or for victory, and this is also a legitimate means of fighting war. Since the outcome of the war is ultimately in the hands of the Almighty, heartfelt prayer (and Torah learning) can have an impact on the war's outcome. Later in the Torah, in the first war fought by the Jewish people (as a nation) with Amalek, even before they received the Torah, the outcome of the war was determined by the Jews looking or not looking heavenward -- a physical outcome of war based on a totally spiritual act. It is no coincidence that right before the outbreak of the Gulf War in January 1991, the Rabbinic leadership in Israel also called for a mass prayer service at the Western Wall, attended by tens of thousands of Jews.

It is interesting to note that Nachmanides (introduction to Vayishlach) also mentions the same three steps in preparing to face the enemy, but the order is changed somewhat. He still places actual fighting as the third option - only after every other option fails. But he states that first one prays, and ONLY then one attempts to appease the enemy. This subtle difference may reflect a philosophical argument between Rashi and Nachmanides in how to approach war from a psychological perspective. But it is clear that the normative Jewish view is that only when all other tactics fail to prevent war, Jacob and all Jews should be prepared to fight. Fortunately, in that case with Esau, war was avoided when Jacob and Esau reconciled their differences (Genesis 33:4).

War as a last option was seen before in the Torah.

Jacob's preparation for war was not the first war fought by a Jew in the Torah. The first world war had been raging between four kings and five kings for 13 years. But suddenly Abraham, the first Jew, got involved.

Genesis 14:14-15

And when Abram heard that his brother (Lot) was taken captive, he armed his trained servants, born in his own house, three hundred and eighteen, and pursued them to Dan. And he divided himself against them, he and his servants, by night, and defeated them, and pursued them tto Hobah, which is on the lef side of Damascus.

Your Torah Navigator

1. What made Abraham decide to fight in the war and defeat the four kings?

2. Is Abraham's fighting in war consistent with what you know about Abraham's personality? How do you explain it?

3. Is this story consistent with the values we learned with Jacob's preparation to fight Esau? Why or why not?

A Word

The very first Jew, Abraham, was certainly a man of peace. He invited everyone into his tent and spread the name of God by means of his kindness and caring personality (Sotah 10b). And yet, when he needed to, Abraham, the man of peace, went to war. Abraham was not involved at all for the first thirteen years of the "world war" between five city-states and four city-states. But when his nephew Lot was captured in the war, Abraham quickly went into action, saved Lot, defeated the occupying army, and ended the long war. In victory, Abraham refused all booty and spoils of war (Genesis 14:22-24). He did not seek war, but in order to save a captive, one of the highest obligations in Judaism, Abraham was "forced" to wage war as the only means to save his nephew's life.

Prepared by Rabbi Nachum Amsel, Hillels in the Former Soviet Union and Beit Hillel at Hebrew University.

Before God speaks to Abraham uttering those famous words, "Go for yourself from your land, your birthplace, your father's house to a land that I will show you"--we know nothing about him. It would have helped had the Torah given us some background information on the first man with whom God had chosen to speak in ten generations. Not only have we not gotten any information Abraham, but all of the sudden God has become downright loquacious...and, cagey.

He is extremely articulate when He speaks to that which is already obvious to Abraham--i.e. Abraham knows that he is leaving his home. He knows that it is his birthplace and I daresay, he knew who his father was, but when God finally is about to tell Abraham something he doesn't already know, He says, "...to a land that I will show you."

Rashi, the most revered and popular of the traditional medieval commentators, gives two reasons for God opening verbosely and closing cryptically. He says, "He (God) didn't reveal the land immediately in order to make it more desirable to him (Abraham) and also He wished to reward him (Abraham) for every word of conversation. Similarly, we see this (in the binding of Isaac) "Take your son, your only son, the one whom you love, Isaac."

Or, when he refers to where Isaac was to be sacrificed God [doesn't name the mountain but says instead] "On one of the mountains where I will speak to you." And when God spoke to Jonah [to give prophecy to the inhabitants of Nineveh], "And call to them this calling which I will speak to you." (Jonah 3:2)

So, Rashi demonstrates that this isn't the only place where God is chatty and cagey. Rashi's purpose is not tell us that this is a pattern of God-syntax, the depths of which mere mortals will never plumb. Rashi instead says, God is cagey so that Abraham's curiosity will be aroused, but God is chatty so that Abraham will engage with Him in conversation, and God in turn can reward every syllable of Abraham's interest. The prizes offered by the Holy One are pretexts for the conversations He wishes to have with Abraham. Abraham is to gain entry into the Holy Land, by learning his nomadic way to a land that "I will show you."

The process by which Abraham learns, according to Rashi, is as important as Abraham's final destination. In fact, the rewards begin with the first step of the journey and continue with each and every conversation. God begins the conversation by making more conversation showing that He knows exactly what He is asking of Abraham. As Abraham learns more about God through action and conversation, he courageously questions God's purpose in destroying Sodom and Gomorrah. It is here we understand that Abraham is not only blindly following his Creator, but he has learned his ways, and now feels impelled to question them when what he has learned is seemingly being contradicted.

Abraham knows the merciful aspect of God so well, that he becomes a funnel for the flowing of mercy into the world. Thus Abraham argues and succeeds in allowing the merit of ten good people to save a city teeming with the wickedness of thousands. Abraham is the embodiment of God's mercy and so harsh judgement must take a back seat as long as Abraham is around. Rashi tells us that Abraham was rewarded for every syllable of this argument with God as well. After He learned God's ways, he held God to what he felt was an appropriate standard. By understanding God's mercy, he embodied it thereby becoming a blessing for everyone, as it is written, "And you shall be a blessing...and all the families of the earth will be blessed through you."

We are commanded to learn the Torah, just as Abraham was commanded to learn the Holy One's nature. We, too, are rewarded for each syllable of probing and questioning and challenging as we journey on to the lands that "He will show us."

Prepared by Rabbi Avi Weinstein

In this week's Torah portion, we read of Joseph's brothers kidnapping him and selling him into slavery. This week also marks Thanksgiving and the beginning of Chanukah.

Genesis chapter 37:12-17
One time, when [Joseph's] brothers had gone to pasture their father's flock at Shechem, Israel said to Joseph, "Your brothers are pasturing at Shechem. Come, I will send you to them." And [Jacob] said to [Joseph], "Go and see how your brothers are and how the flocks are faring, and bring me back word." So he sent him from the valley of Hebron. When [Joseph] reached Shechem, a man came upon him wandering in the fields. The man asked him, "What are you looking for?" He answered, "I am looking for my brothers. Could you tell me where they are pasturing?" The man said, "they have gone from here, for I heard them say: 'Let us go to Dothan.'" So Joseph followed his brothers and found them at Dothan.

Your Genesis Navigator
1. Why does Jacob send Joseph to his brothers?
2. Does Jacob know of the brother's hatred of Joseph? Does he consider the possibility that they might harm him?
3. Does Joseph ever sense that he might be in danger?
4. Why doesn't Joseph head back home to Hebron as he wanders about in the fields near Shechem? He's done his best to carry out his father's assignment and find his brothers!

Joseph has been sent on a mission to maintain lines of communication between his father, himself, and his brothers. Little does he know that his jealous brothers will use the reunion as an opportunity to rid themselves of a younger sibling they view as an unbearable nuisance. A proper reunion will await years of exile and mistreatment in Egypt for Joseph, and the experience of famine for his family back in the land of Canaan.

Rabbi Samuel b. Meir ("Rashbam," 12th c. France and grandson of Rashi)
This teaches the significance of Joseph. He did not want to return to his father after failing to find [his brothers] in Shechem. He kept on seeking them until he found them. Even though he knew that they were jealous of him, he went on looking for them as his father had instructed him..."

Your Rashbam Navigator
1. Why, according to Rashbam does Joseph persist to find his brothers?
2. What is Joseph's most important value?
3. Can you think of instances in which you had to put aside personal concerns for a greater value?

A Word
This year, Parashat Vayeshev comes in the wake of Thanksgiving (in the United States) and coincides with the first day of Chanukah. Thanksgiving expresses a communal todah rabbah (expression of thanks) for the bounty of an adoptive land; it is often and ideally marked by families or communities. Chanukah marks a different kind of giving thanks. The festival of lights comes out of the internecine strife among the Jews of 2nd c. BCE Eretz Yisrael. Yet we mark the rededication of the Temple, once again, as families and community: "a lamp for each family," the Talmud teaches.

Sometimes, Jewish community comes about peacefully. Often, however, community is achieved, and maintained, in the presence of strife - conflicting visions, hopes, and worries. This is often true of Jewish community on campus! As we join together in communities and families to celebrate Thanksgiving (for the Americans among us) and Chanukah (for all of us!), may we celebrate, and emulate, the persistence of Joseph, who seeks family and community so that we might do likewise.

Prepared by Rabbi David Rosenberg, Executive Director, The Johanna and Herman H. Newberger Hillel Center at the University of Chicago.

Parshat Vayeytze opens with a description of Jacob fleeing his parents' home in Beer Sheva and the land of Canaan to escape the murderous wrath of his brother, Esau.

One day, early in his journey, the sun sets just as Jacob reaches a special place and he camps there for the night. While asleep, Jacob dreams of a ladder set firmly on the ground with its top reaching high into the heavens and with angels of God rising up the ladder and descending down. God, standing at the top of the ladder, speaks to Jacob and promises to give him and his descendents the land upon which he sleeps, to be with him, watch over him, and return him to the home he is leaving behind. His descendents, God tells Jacob, "will be as the dust of the land and will spread westward and eastward; northward and southward."

When Jacob awakes the next morning, he makes a monument of the stone upon which he slept, anoints it with oil, and makes a promise to God: "If God is with me and watches over me on my journey, if God gives me food to eat and clothes to wear and returns me whole to my parents' home, then I will establish God as my Lord, have this stone as God's house, and tithe all that God gives me in God's service."

At first glance, Jacob's promise is perplexing. Why does he introduce his promise with the conditional "IF"? Does Jacob doubt the prophecy of his dream? Does he not trust God to deliver on God's word? Are not God's promises unconditional and should not Jacob's promises be unconditional as well? Why does Jacob act as if he is in a Middle Eastern Souk in which he needs to bargain for God's gifts or to set conditions for his own loyalty?

Rabbi Ovadia Sefornu, the author of a 15th Century commentary on the Bible who lived in Italy, relied on a lesson from Tractate Eruvin to offer an alternative understanding for Jacob's promise. The world is a dangerous place, the Sefornu says, for those who chose to serve God's mission. Evil persons, economic challenges, and disease may all separate a committed servant of the Jewish People from his (or her) purpose.

Jacob recognized these dangers and knew that it is only God's protection that would allow him to succeed in his mission and to set the destiny for the Jewish people. Jacob's response that morning was not to set conditions on his service to God, but to state his recognition that his success was predicated on the promise God gave to him the night before. "BECAUSE (not 'IF') God will be with me, feed me, clothe me, and protect me, I will be able follow God and serve God's purpose both abroad and at home."

Little has changed in this regard since Jacob's time. Recent events have shown, once again, just how difficult and dangerous the world can be for those who choose to spend their lives serving the Jewish people and how dependant they (we) are on the fulfillment of God's promise to Jacob. Economic problems - and evil persons - can and sometimes do work against us. Following Jacob's example, we must plan well, work hard, and act with the knowledge that God's blessing will allow us to succeed.

The author dedicates this week's D'var Torah to the memory of Rabbi Gavriel Holtzberg, Rebbetizn Rivka Holtzberg, and all victims of the attack on Mumbai's Chabad House.

Written by Rabbi Howard Alpert, executive director of Hillel of Greater Philadelphia.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Vayeytze at MyJewishLearning.com.

"If you could invite any Jewish personality to your dinner table," a common exercise begins, "who would it be?" Often people will suggest Moses, Golda Meir or Albert Einstein. Maybe even Sandy Koufax or Jerry Seinfeld. I might even consider adding Sascha Baron Cohen to the list. The number one person on my guest list would include somebody whose name we do not know.

My all-time favorite Jewish personality has no name. He appears in this week's Torah portion, Va-Yeishev, and is arguably one of the most important individuals in all of Jewish history.

Before we get to him, however, I'll ask those living in the U.S. to recall a commercial which received way too much air time about a year ago. The commercial began with an important looking man sitting at his desk while he and an underling extol the virtues of a particular cell phone company. The man behind the desk relates that signing up for their service is his way of "sticking it to the man," to which the underling responds, "but you are the man!"

Who is "the man" - more appropriately - "the person?" The Psalmist asks that very question in Psalm 34: 13-15:

"Who is the ish" (literally, the man)? The "ish is a hafetz hayim" - a pursuer of life. The ish is one who 'turns from evil and does good.' The ish is one who "seeks peace and pursues it."

The Talmud, in Pirke Avot, Ethics of our Ancestors, gives us bit more to explore in quoting the namesake of the Foundation for Jewish Life on Campus, the great sage, Hillel:

In a place where there are no anashim (the plural of ish) strive to be an ish. (Ethics of our Ancestors 2:6)

Let's concentrate on this word - ish - what does it really mean - not only in this context, but elsewhere?

The Book of Exodus describes the famous story of Moses coming upon an Egyptian beating an Israelite slave:

Some time after that, when Moses had grown up, he went out to his kinsfolk and witnessed their labors. He saw an Egyptian beating a Hebrew, one of his kinsmen. He turned this way and that, and seeing no ish about, he struck the Egyptian and hid him in the sand.(Exodus 2: 11-12)

How is it plausible that nobody was around to see this? There were hundreds of slaves and many taskmasters present at all times. Perhaps the word ish here means a particular kind of human being. Moses saw that nobody was acting to stop the beating, so he stepped forward and took matters into his own hands.

In the Purim story, Mordecai alerts officials of an assassination plot against King Achashveros, which was dutifully recorded in the king's annals. Some time later, Achashveros requested that the memoirs be read aloud, where he was reminded of the incident and of Mordecai's bravery. He wanted to show his appreciation to Mordecai, as the Scroll of Esther relates:

Haman entered and the king asked him: "What should be done for the ish whom the king desires to honor?" (Esther 6:6)

In context, it appears that Achashveros is referring to a particular type of human being by using the word ish. It took courage for Mordecai to also step forward and warn the king of impending catastrophe.

Let's now take a look at this week's Torah portion. We set the scene with Joseph at home with his father, Jacob (known by now as Israel), while his brothers are out tending to their flock:

One time, when his brothers had gone to pasture their father's flock at Shekhem, Israel said to Joseph: "Your brothers are pasturing at Shekhem. Come, I will send you to them." He answered, "I am ready." And he said to him, "Go and see how your brothers are and how the flocks are faring, and bring me back word. So he sent him from the valley of Hevron.

When he reached Shekhem, an ish asked him: "What are looking for?" He answered, "I am looking for my brothers. Could you tell me where they are pasturing? The ish said, "They have gone from here, for I heard them say: Let us go to Dotan."

So Joseph followed his brothers and found then at Dotan. (Genesis 37:12-17)

Joseph is wandering in the wilderness - clearly lost. An ish, who is a total stranger, approaches him and asks if he can help. Joseph asks if this stranger has seen his brothers. The ish directs him to the city of Dotan.

The rest, as they say, is history. Joseph meets up with his brothers who throw him into a pit, sell him into slavery and take his coat of many colors (which they have stained with animal blood) back to Jacob where they tell him that Joseph is dead.

Through a circuitous series of events, Joseph eventually ends up in Egypt where he ultimately saves his family and the entire Jewish people. Had not this unknown ish stopped Joseph in the wilderness and asked if he could help, it is not implausible to think that Jewish history would have died along with those who perished during the ensuing famine in the Land of Israel. This ish, and the ones mentioned earlier, literally created history.

The ultimate question asked above in Psalm 34 - who is the ish - is "what kind of history are we creating?" The answer the Psalmist gives us is that the ish is a seeker of life and of dreams. A creator of history who loves good - who turns from evil. The one, who just like the ish in this week's Torah portion says some simple words (what are you looking for - i.e., how can I help?) which create our destiny and set the tone for Jewish living and Jewish loving for all eternity.

This nameless ish is one of my heroes and would certainly occupy one of the seats at my fantasy Jewish personalities dinner. It is my hope that we all merit this anonymous appellation. That we constantly and consistently help others create their own Jewish history by simply asking, just like our ish, "how can I help?"

Written by Richard Moline, Director of KOACH, United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Vayeshev at MyJewishLearning.com.

Parshat Vayetze depicts the complex and emotional love story of Jacob and Rachel. Jacob worked seven years as a shepherd under the auspices of his uncle Laban. When, after seven years he was not allowed to marry Rachel as was promised him, but instead married Leah, her older sister, he then worked another seven years in order to finally marry Rachel. The years proved to be difficult work, and his uncle, Laban, was a tough and untrustworthy boss. And yet our tradition teaches us that to Jacob, the years of work in order to marry his beloved, Rachel, seemed like just a few days. It would seem to be a true story of love between Rachel and Jacob.

And yet even after they unite in marriage, Jacob and Rachel's troubles continue. Rachel is unable to conceive. She is devastated. The subject of Rachel's infertility is painful and poignant and speaks to us as contemporary individuals as much as it did for those in the ancient world. Rachel so desperately wants to have a child. She cannot figure out why it is that she does not have one. And Jacob, her true love, is unable to comfort her. The pain of infertility is a timeless subject with contemporary relevance. Today the pain is the same.

Rachel asks Jacob (chapter 30: v.1-2) to "Give me children." Jacob's response seems too harsh. He angrily replies: "Am I a surrogate for God, who has withheld from you?" Rachel seems to be in extraordinary spiritual pain, and Jacob seems completely unatuned to it. This is not the way that someone who purports to love someone else responds to her pain.

When hard times fall on a person, we humans have trouble explaining just why some people have such problems when others do not. A common response is to blame the person, to suggest that perhaps they, themselves, have done something to merit their pain. That is how Rashi explains Rachel's infertility. He believes that Rachel is jealous of Leah, who must be more righteous than she. According to Rashi, Rachel also accuses Jacob of not being righteous enough to pray effectively on her behalf. The pain of infertility has caused these two friends and lovers to work against one another, both accusing the other of not being righteous or prayerful enough. Pain and loss will often do that. Jacob is unduly harsh in the way he responds. The love-relationship is very tender. And when it comes to this intense pain, words can be stinging.

Rachel is so bereft that she indeed feels as if she will die if she does not have children. Perhaps it is true that others in her community will regard her as "dead" if she is unable to become a mother. This attitude persists today, as people often look at childless women of a certain age as not being whole, as not having fulfilled their life's purpose as mothers.

Perhaps Jacob is also miffed that Rachel is not satisfied, merely by marrying Jacob, but that her passion is to be a mother, not just a wife. It reminds us of Elkanah's response to his wife Hannah, who is also unable to conceive. "Am I not more devoted to you than ten sons?" (1 Samuel, 1:8). We read Elkanah's bewildered response each year as our Haftarah portion on the first day of Rosh Hashanah. These feelings of anger on the part of a husband towards his bereft wife are common in cases of infertility. The pain and loss divides them, drives them against one another in anger and confusion about just how strong is the foundation of love for one another that began their marriage.

Ramban offers us a different perspective on this matter. Perhaps Jacob is so angry because Rachel has unrealistic expectations of just how much he can do to change their infertility. It seems that although Jacob has prayed, perhaps Rachel would never be fully satisfied until he put on sackcloth and ashes and prayed and fasted continuously as if he were mourning, until Rachel conceived. Rachel, in her desperation, feels justified that this behavior is appropriate for her husband. Yet, Jacob becomes angry. He has prayed, but it is up to God, not him, to grant Rachel children. Jacob lashes out at Rachel and reminds her that he, actually, already has children - with Leah and with Bilhah, Rachel's concubine! It is only Rachel who has not conceived! What a deep and personal sting for Rachel, that her husband turns their pain back onto Rachel and will not share it with her.

We wonder: can one ever fully feel the pain of another? The anger and isolation between Rachel and Jacob remind us just how much the disappointment and loss can isolate us and drive us apart from our loved ones. These issues are very real to us in every generation. It is much easier to lash out at one another instead of attempting to connect and support each other time and again. Our ancestors were plagued with disappointment and loss, as are we. It is the nature of being human. Torah gives us a glimpse, firsthand, of just how painful our words can be, even to those we love.

We may never fully feel or fully understand the pain that another person feels. Yet we can strive to support them, to take them at their word, and over and over let our feelings of anger pass by us. Only then will we be able to come back to one another with consolation and comfort. May this be our task as individuals and as a Jewish community.

Written by Rabbi Andrea Steinberger, rabbi at the Hillel at the University of Wisconsin.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Vayeytze at MyJewishLearning.com.

Joseph and his brother didn't see eye to eye on many things. Joseph, being the "good boy" of the family, calls on his brothers to behave and reports their behavior to his father. In addition, Joseph has some disturbing dreams which he shares with his brothers. The brothers who are feeling threatened by these dreams, want to get rid of Joseph. After some deliberation, they throw him into a pit until some nomad merchants come along and buy Joseph as a slave. The merchants in turn, sell Joseph in Egypt where he ends up in jail because of the false claims (of rape) of Potiphar's wife. When Pharaoh discovers Joseph's talent for dream interpretation, he frees Joseph from jail and appoints him to be second in command over all Egypt.

Torah
42:6 Joseph was like a dictator over the land, since he was the only one who rationed out food for all the people. When Joseph's brothers arrived, they prostrated themselves to him, with their faces to the ground.
42:7 Joseph recognized his brothers as soon as he saw them. But he behaved like a stranger and spoke harshly to them. 'Where are you from?' he asked. 'From the land of Canaan - to buy food,' they replied.
42:8 Joseph recognized his brothers, but they did not recognize him.
42:9 He remembered what he had dreamed about them. 'You are spies!' he said to them. 'You have come to see where the land is exposed to attack.'
42:10 'No my lord!' they replied. 'We are your servants who have come only to buy food.
42:11 We are all the sons of the same man. We are honorable men. We would never think of being spies!'
42:12 'No!' retorted [Joseph]. 'You have come to see where the land is exposed.'
42:13 'We are twelve brothers,' they pleaded. 'We are the sons of one man who is in Canaan. Right now the youngest brother is with our father, and one brother is gone.'

Your Torah Navigator
1. Why did Joseph act so harshly to his brothers?
2. Would you do the same to your brothers?
3. Why didn't the brothers recognize Joseph?
4. What would you answer to the accusations of Joseph of being a spy?

The Midrash
The Piyut (liturgy) on Yom Kippur associates the deaths of the Ten Martyrs as punishment for Joseph being sold into slavery; "He (the Roman governor) commanded, 'Judge this case... What is the law if a man kidnapped a brother and sold him?' They (the Ten Martyrs) answered, 'The kidnapper is to die.' Said he, 'What of your ancestors who sold their brother? Now you must accept the heavenly judgment upon yourselves for since your forefathers' times there have been none like you. Were they alive I would have prosecuted them before you, so you must bear the sin of your ancestors!

Your Midrash Navigator
1. Do you think it is right to judge a person for the sins of his father?
2. Do you hold a grudge against somebody else based on family feud?
3. Do you think the outcome of the story would be different if Joseph treated his brothers more appropriately?

A Word
Joseph's brothers judged him and Joseph later took his revenge on them. And it all starts with small issues, fights between children - a scuffle and nothing else, but with no end. These fights between the brothers cause much pain to all parties - Joseph, his brothers, and their father.

Joseph was sure that he was right and his brother was just as sure. One of the lessons we learn from this is mentioned in the Ethics of our Fathers (1:11). Avtalyon said: Sages, be careful with your words lest you deserve to be exiled and are exiled to a place of bad waters. A smart person knows that anything he says has a result. If Joseph would realize that his taunting of his brothers is that annoying, he would stop. If the brothers would realize that they are so threatened by Joseph's dream that they will sell him into slavery, they would stop. If Jacob, their father, will realize that his favoritism will cause all of this, he might express his feelings differently. If Joseph will realize that if he will act as if he forgives his brothers, then maybe the story of the ten martyrs would never be told. The message from the story of Joseph and his brothers is clear. Be careful of what you say and do because the consequences of our words may have a bigger effect than we may think.

Shabbat Shalom and Happy Chanukah.

Prepared by Rabbi Meni Even-Israel, campus educator, University of Maryland, College Park.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Miketz at MyJewishLearning.com.

37. Jacob then got fresh shoots of poplar, and of almond and plane, and peeled white stripes in them, laying bare the white of the shoots. 38. The rods that he had peeled he set up in front of the goats in the troughs, the water receptacles that the goats came to drink from. Their mating occurred when they came to drink, 39. and since the goats mated by the rods, the goats brought forth streaked, speckled, and spotted young. 40. But Jacob dealt separately with the sheep; he made these animals face the streaked or wholly dark-colored animals in Laban's flock. And so he produced special flocks for himself, which he did not put with Laban's flocks. 41. Moreover, when the sturdier animals were mating, Jacob would place the rods in the troughs, in full view of the animals, so that they mated by the rods; 42 but with the feebler animals he would not place them there. Thus the feeble ones went to Laban and the sturdy to Jacob. 43 So the man grew exceedingly prosperous, and came to own large flocks, maidservants and menservants, camels and asses.


To make the offspring of the remainder of the flock mottled, Jacob has the animals drink before striped and mottled tree limbs. Consequently, the flocks gave birth to mottled and striped sheep and goats. Having thus increased his fortune, Jacob and his family set off on their own.

Your animal husbandry navigator:

1. This parasha spends a great number of verses on breeding techniques, and by extension, the laws of genetics. Why are so many verses devoted to this when fewer verses are devoted to other subjects that are seemingly more important?

2. Jacob knows that Laban has once again tricked him by taking the sheep and goats they had agreed would be Jacob's. Why does Jacob choose to regain what is rightfully his through breeding instead of trying to reclaim the animals that were taken?

3. Does Jacob believe that putting the rods and sticks in front of the flocks will influence the way their offspring look?

A Word

There is a shaggy dog story about a man who refuses to leave his house when his town is taken over by a flood. At first, a police car comes by, warning and then urging the townspeople to find safe harbor. As the water gets higher, a rescue boat comes and urges the man to leave his home. As water fills the first floor and he is forced to take refuge on the second floor of his home, the police boat comes around again. Finally, with the water coming so high as to fill his entire home, the man takes refuge on the roof. When a rescue helicopter arrives, he again refuses the help. Each time, he tells his rescuers not to worry, God will help him. As the story ends, the entire house is engulfed in water and the flood carries the man to his death. As he meets God he says that he had faith that God would help him, and suggests that his death is proof that God has failed him. God responds, "I sent two cars, two boats and a helicopter, what did you expect?"

Jacob understood that God was responsible for providing him with an inheritance as he told Rachel: "God rescued your father's cattle and gave them to me" (Genesis 31: 9). However, he also understood that he had to work to make his inheritance real.

There are two famous quotes that speak to this point:

"I'm a great believer in luck and I find the harder I work, the more I have of it." -Thomas Jefferson,

"Praying to win the lottery only works when you first buy a
ticket!"

These verses do not come to teach us difficult scientific lessons about heredity and dominant and recessive genes but rather serve to remind us of a simple, but very important lesson: that we are partners in creation with God. In this way they are both humbling and empowering.

Prepared by Rabbi Toby Manewith, Director of Hillel's She'arim - Gateways Initiative.

Early in Parshat Toldot we are introduced to Isaac and Rebecca's twin sons, Esau and Jacob. As the Torah describes them, Esau and Jacob were as different from one another as brothers could be. Jacob was a Yoshev Ohelim-a dweller of tents-who enjoyed intellectual and spiritual pursuits while Esau was an outdoorsman and a hunter enamored with the physicality of life. In rabbinic literature Jacob is the Tzadik Tamim - the guileless Tzadik - and Esau the personification of wickedness. Reverberations of the enmity that came to define their relationship have been felt throughout Jewish history.

Genesis 25:27-28

"When the boys grew up, it came to pass that Esau was a man who understood hunting, a man of the field, and Jacob was a guileless man dwelling in tents. Isaac loved Esau, for he was a hunter for his mouth, but Rebecca loved Jacob."

Your Genesis Navigator:

How could two brothers, born to the same parents and raised in the same household under the same conditions have turned out so different from each other? Why does the Torah choose to tell us that Isaac favored one son while Rebecca favored the other? Does the nature of each brother predetermine the outcome of the story?

Rabbinic tradition considers education and child-rearing to be among the most sacred of tasks. The principle that Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch learns from our Parsha echoes much of the Rabbis' attitude toward education throughout the ages:

"The striking contrast in the grandchildren of Abraham may have been due not so much to a difference in their temperaments as to a mistake in the way they were brought up. No attention was paid to their differences while they were little; both were given the same teaching and educational treatment. Had Isaac and Rebecca studied the nature of Esau and spoken to that nature, who can say how different the history of the ages may have been recorded." [Commentary On The Torah, Genesis 25:27]

A Selection of Jewish Teachings Regarding Education:

1. "Teach a child according to his own way." [Proverbs 22:6]

2. "How is Torah taught? The teacher sits at the head of the class and the students sit around him. The teacher should not sit on a chair while his students sit on the ground. Rather, either everyone should sit on the ground or everyone should sit on chairs." [Rambam, Laws of Talmud Torah, 4:2]

3. "If the teacher taught a concept and the students did not grasp it, he should not become upset with them and display anger. Rather, he should repeat and review the matter, even if he must do so many times." [Rambam, Laws of Talmud Torah, 4:4]

4. "Rabbi Ishmael Ben Rabbi Yosi said: One who learns in order to teach is given the means both to learn and to teach; one who learns in order to enact is given the means to learn and to teach, to preserve and to enact." [Pirkei Avoth 4, 6]

A Final Word

Later in our Parsha, when Isaac asks Esau to hunt for him so that he [Isaac] may bless him [Esau], he says: "Take your quiver and your bow and go out into the field and hunt game for me. Prepare for me a tasty dish like I love and bring it to me so that I may eat and so that my soul may bless you before I die." [Genesis 27:3-4]

Three verses later, when Rebecca recounts this conversation to Jacob, she has Isaac saying, "that I may bless you in the presence of God before I die." Again, when Jacob, dressed to appear before Isaac like Esau, speaks of God, Isaac responds, "The voice is the voice of Jacob but the hands are the hands of Esau." (Note that commentaries understand Isaac's comment, "the voice," as referring to Jacob's use of the name of God.)

This student of Torah observes that Isaac and Rebecca speak of God when talking to Jacob but not when talking to Esau, and wonders: Did Isaac and Rebecca try too hard to speak to Jacob and Esau only on the plane that they thought each would be comfortable?

Perceiving Esau as "earthy," did they neglect to speak with him about God; perceiving Jacob as "spiritual" did they neglect to teach him about the beauty of physicality, also created by God?

In their attempt to "engage" each son on his own terms, did they fail to challenge him?

Had Isaac and Rebecca challenged each of their sons to grow beyond their natural inclinations who can say how different the history of the ages may have been recorded.

Prepared by Rabbi Howard Alpert, Hillel of Greater Philadelphia.

At the beginning of this Torah portion, Joseph is languishing in prison, unjustly accused, when Pharaoh has two disturbing dreams. First, he sees seven fat, healthy cows come up out of the Nile and they are eaten up by seven lean; sickly cows. After the lean cows have consumed the seven healthy cows, they are no fatter or healthier than they were before. Pharaoh wakes and has a second dream, virtually identical to the first, except that it concerns ears of corn instead of cattle. Upon awakening, he calls for all the wise men and magicians of Egypt, but none can interpret the dream. Pharaoh's chief butler then recalls Joseph, who correctly interpreted the butler's and baker's dreams in prison, and Joseph is taken from prison, cleaned up, and brought before Pharaoh.

Genesis 41:14-16
Thereupon Pharaoh sent for Joseph and he was rushed from the dungeon. He had his hair cut and changed his clothes and he appeared before Pharaoh. And Pharaoh said to Joseph, "I have had a dream, but no one can interet it. Now I have heard that you can understand (tishmah) a dream to interpret it." Joseph answered Paraoh saying, "Not I! God will see to Pharaoh's welfare."

The Hebrew word used for "understand" in verse 15 is "tishma." Rashi, in his commentary, makes note of the fact that to listen carefully, to really pay heed, is to understand.

Joseph, however, declines to take credit, and, just as he had done when he interpreted the butler's and baker's dreams in prison, he invokes God's name, saying, "It is not in me; God will give Pharaoh an answer of peace."

Your Torah Navigator
Why could Joseph interpret the dream when the wise men and magicians of Egypt could not?

Joseph interprets Pharaoh's dream to mean that the next seven prosperous years will be followed by seven lean years, but he does not stop there. Joseph adds that Pharaoh should appoint an administrator to save grain from the prosperous years so that there will be food in Egypt during the famine to come. The commentator Ramban explains that Joseph would not be so chutzpahdik as to offer this as advice to Pharaoh - was he hired as a dream interpreter or an economic advisor? Rather, the advice is part of the dream, based on verse 4. According to Ramban, the lean cows swallowing the fat cows indicated to Joseph that the prosperity of the good years would sustain Egypt during the years of famine. Egypt would not grow fat during the famine, but would survive on a subsistence level.

Commentator Navigator
How does Ramban's interpretation preserve the integrity of the dream as one sent by God?

A Word
Rabbi Yehudah Leib Alter, the author of S'fat Emet asks, "What can be learned from this parashah to prepare ourselves in good days, days in which holiness is revealed, to set the lights in our hearts, to be there in times when holiness seems far off." There are times in our lives when we have everything we could want, and times when we are sorely in need. There are times when we feel loved, successful, happy and on top of the world. There are times when we feel lonely, betrayed and misunderstood. During the good times, we think God is with us, and during the bad, it is easy to think that God has abandoned us. Just as Joseph helped the Egyptians save food from the good years to sustain them through the famine, we can use our own good times to sustain us through bad ones.

Prepared by Rabbi Leslie Bergson, Jewish Chaplain and Hillel Director, The Claremont Colleges.

In the middle of this week's Torah portion, the main subject of which is the beginning of the relationship between God, Abraham, the Jewish people and the land of Israel, there is a story of a battle of kings (Genesis 14). During the war, some of Abraham's relatives are captured, so Abraham joined the battle and was victorious.

Upon his return from battle, King Malchizedek of Salem greeted Abraham, gave him presents and blessed him.

Genesis 14: 17-20:

When [Abram] returned from defeating Chedorlaomer and the kings with him, the king of Sodom came out to meet him in the Valley of Shaveh, which is the Valley of the King. And Malchizedek, king of Salem, brought out bread and wine; he was a priest of God Most High. He blessed him, saying, "Blessed be Abram of God Most High, who is creating heaven and earth. And blessed be God Most High, who has delivered your foes into your hand." And Abram gave him a tenth of everything.

Your Torah Navigator

What is the impact of King of Sodom coming to meet Abram? Why is it important that Malchizedek is the king of Salem? And what does it mean that the Torah is referring to Malchizedek as a priest of "God Most High?"

Rabbi Ya'acov Moshe Charlap commented on the fact that Malchizedek identified God not as "having created" heaven and earth, but as "creating" heaven and earth: It says "is creating" and not "created" because the Holy and Blessed One renews the world every moment. "God renews in goodness each day always doing the work of creation."

Your Rabbi Ya'acov Moshe Charlap Navigator:

Why does Rabbi Ya'acov say "in goodness" in reference to God renewing each day? What is the theological impact of God renewing the world every moment, in terms of the relationship between the Jewish people today and our tradition?

A Word

In our tradition God is not merely a first cause, a watchmaker, the One who set things in motion, then is absent. Were God to have created the world and then disappear, the world would have disintegrated and degenerated into chaos. Creation occurs every day, with every worldly innovation. Every human inspiration is a gift from God, who creates through the human intellect and spirit. The procreation of life itself is the very presence of God in its most pronounced manifestation on earth.

As we view the world around us in our spiritual moments and in our daily routines, let us see God and God's creation in our lives.

Shabbat Shalom.

Prepared by Rabbi Jeffrey Kurtz-Lendner, Executive Director, New Orleans Hillel Center and president of Tekiah

(1) Now Dinah, Leah's daughter, whom she had borne to Jacob, went out to see the women of the land.

(2) And Shechem, son of Hamor the Hivite, the prince of the land, saw her. He took her and lay with her, forcing her.

(3) But his emotions clung to Dinah, Jacob's daughter. He loved the girl, and he spoke to the heart of the girl.

(4) So Shechem said to Hamor, his father, saying, "Take me this girl as a wife!"

(5) Now Jacob had heard that he [Shechem] had defiled Dinah, his daughter, but since his sons were with his livestock in the fields, Jacob kept silent until they came home.

Your Torah Navigator

1. How does this narrative depict the rape of Dinah?
2. What does the narrative say about Shechem's changing view of Dinah?
3. What do the different ways of describing Dinah, in different places and times -- first as "Leah's daughter, whom she had borne to Jacob," then as "Jacob's daughter," and finally, from Jacob's perspective, as "his daughter," tell us about her status, or how her status is viewed at those different times? Do Dinah's actions affect the way the Torah views her?
4. What do you make of Jacob's reaction in verse 5? Is this how you would expect a father to react to his only daughter being "defiled"?

Some Medieval Commentaries
Rashi says:
On verse 1-- "Daughter of Leah" - and not daughter of Jacob. Rather, this is on account of the name "she went out", because even Leah's daughter, like Leah, was "one who went out", as it says (earlier in Genesis 30:16): "Leah went out to greet Jacob in the fields."

On verse 2--"And [he] lay with her" - indicates her consent. "Forcing her" -indicates her lack of consent.

Sforno says:
On verse 3--"To Dinah, Jacob's daughter." Indicates Dinah's status as the daughter of Jacob, who was honored in the eyes of the nations. As it says afterwards (in Genesis 34:19), "Because Shechem wanted Jacob's daughter."

Your Commentary Navigator

1. Rashi says that when Dinah "went out to see the women of the land" she is titled after her mother, because Leah was also someone who "went out", when she greeted Jacob. Does this imply some judgment about Dinah's action?
2. Rashi also says that Dinah consented to part of her relations with Shechem. Is this how you read the text?
3. Sforno says that when Shechem thinks of Dinah as Jacob's daughter, it is a sign of respect for Jacob. What kind of respect is given to Dinah in the different contexts of these verses?

A Word

The Torah seems to describe rape somewhat accurately, that is that Dinah isn't loved by Shechem until after he has possessed her by violence. Why would a medieval commentator like Rashi, interpret Dinah as participating, at least partially, with consent? Perhaps Rashi sought a voice for Dinah, who is utterly silent in the original text. What do you think of how Rashi chose to represent Dinah? Jacob eventually punishes his sons who take revenge on Shechem for Dinah. Dinah doesn't seem to play a large role in Jacob's eyes. Where are his feelings for his daughter, and what does this say about the role of women in Biblical society? How do Sforno's comments illustrate his view of women in the Torah?

Prepared by Rabbi Jonathan Freirich, Assistant Director, University of Arizona Hillel

When reading this week's Torah portion, I can't help recall the Los Angeles production of "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat." I went with my entire family to see the show, and during the car ride home, we sang the songs, talked about the costumes and special effects and recounted our favorite parts. Now, living so far from my family, I think back on those times with a huge smile - when we were all together, living in the same city. It's no wonder Joseph finally broke down when Judah reminded him of their father and family!

This portion starts just after the goblet is found in Benjamin's sack and the brothers return to Pharaoh as a "guilty" party. In an attempt to sidestep any more hurt and heartache for Jacob, Judah first offers all of the brothers as slaves (including Benjamin). Joseph doesn't like this offer and requests only Benjamin. Again, in an act of courage and determination, Judah tells Joseph about the aging Jacob and his suffering from the loss of his beloved son. Judah concludes that he should "remain as a slave to my lord instead of the boy, and let the boy go back with his brothers. For how can I go back to my father unless the boy is with me? Let me not be witness to the woe that would overtake my father!" (If that's not Jewish guilt and family love, then I don't know what is.)

Joseph breaks. He sends away all of the surrounding parties to leave him and his brothers alone so that he, too, can reveal his emotions and himself. Rabbi Charles Savenor of the Jewish Theological Seminary says that Joseph "loses control of his emotions because not only will his brothers be reunited, but also humanity has finally proven that it can shoulder the responsibility of brotherhood." I don't know if I would go so far as to say that about humanity, but it is apparent that Joseph doesn't want his family to be tormented anymore-not Judah, nor Jacob nor himself. The end of the portion finds the house of Jacob (all 70 of them) together "in the choicest part of the land of Egypt" and taken care of by Joseph.

But what if a family can't be physically together, providing for each other? How are they to be close and not lose touch? This situation is familiar to the Jewish college student or young professional who, more often than not, has moved away for a new experience. This removed family member has to make an effort in order to sustain the closeness. A fall, winter or summer break trip home may do the trick. Some families go on vacation together, others have unlimited long distance plans.

No matter what works for that family and that family member, Joseph's story gives a few pieces of advice:

Be emotionally open. Without both Judah and Joseph's emotional words, the family would not have been brought together again.

Do what you can to help them be successful. Joseph coaches his brothers to say that they are shepherds, when asked by Pharaoh of their occupation, to ensure their stay in the land.

Reconnecting can be joyous.

I can't recreate the experience I had with my family back in Los Angeles at the Pantages Theater-but what I can do is call often, visit periodically and always continue to have memories to share.

May you and your families have a wonderful new year.

Prepared by Debbie Shapiro, Soref senior associate for campus advancement.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Vayigash at MyJewishLearning.com.

In this week's parsha, we learn that on the third day after Abraham had circumcised himself, he hosted three angels who appeared in human form. Recovering from this procedure in the excruciating heat of the midday sun, our patriarch still urged them to receive his hospitality. Not only that, but as soon as Abraham saw these three men standing near him, he ran to greet them (vayaratz likratam). Not realizing these men were angels, Abraham took these strangers into his home and offered them water to wash their feet and shade to rest. With his wife Sarah's help, the guests were treated to a feast of bread and meat, curds and milk. He personally served these strangers the delicacies and attended to their needs.

In tractate Bava Metzia of the Babylonian Talmud, we find a Midrash explaining that the Israelites benefit later on as a result of Abraham's kindness to these strangers:

Rab Judah teaches in Rab's name: Everything which Abraham personally did for the Ministering Angels, the Holy One Blessed be God did for God's children [the Israelites]; and whatever Abraham did through a messenger, the Holy One Blessed be God did for God's children through a messenger [Moses].

Abraham's hospitality serves as a wonderful example for us all. The parsha begins with God visiting Abraham at the entrance of his tent, but as soon as the three men appear, Abraham turned away from God to attend to these guests. In so doing, he teaches us that hospitality (hachnasat orchim) is a significant mitzvah and value for us.

There are three fall holidays on which hachnasat orchim is emphasized. They are not all religious holidays, but we learn from their message nevertheless. The first of these is the pilgrimage festival of Sukkot. On these eight holy days (seven in Israel), we invite ushpizin (Aramaic for "guests"), or distinguished individuals from our people's history, into our sukkot. Traditionally, we invite Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Aaron, Joseph and David to join our families each night of the holiday. The more progressive and egalitarian among us include some illustrious women who made their mark on the Jewish people as well, including Sarah, Miriam, Deborah, Hannah, Abigail, Hulda and Esther.

In addition to these biblical guests, it is important for us to open our sukkot to others as well, and especially to those who do not have sukkot in their own backyards and those unfamiliar with the tradition. This year, my family invited any student who wanted to join us for a barbeque on the Sunday night of Sukkot. More than 70 undergraduates and graduate students, religious and secular, Jewish and non-Jewish, visited our sukkah and had the opportunity to recite the blessing of dwelling in the sukkah. I was proud to demonstrate this message of hospitality to my 2-year-old son.

While the Halloween tradition is certainly a controversial one among North American Jews because of its pagan roots, there is a positive side to its celebration as well. In today's hectic times, neighbors so infrequently visit one another. The days of neighborhood kids, let alone their parents, dropping in on one another to say hello and shmooze is long gone. Yet on Halloween, millions of children and their parents trek around the neighborhood ringing doorbells, offering greetings and sharing candy. Ideally, this ritual would encourage some to invite their neighbors inside their homes to visit and become acquainted. For many, the Halloween experience is quite likely the first time they see the inside of their next-door neighbors' homes. Therefore, for those who find Halloween a problematic enterprise, the opportunity for hachnasat orchim will hopefully serve as a positive.

Finally, the Thanksgiving holiday is inching upon us. This festive affair is an opportunity for us to gather with friends and family, consider all the good in our lives and give thanks to God for our good fortune. It is also a time for us to consider making room at our table for strangers to join us. Opening our homes to guests on Thanksgiving is a way to share the experience with others and demonstrate our value of hachnasat orchim. With a mother who works in residential real-estate, our family always had strangers at our Thanksgiving dinner table. Each year, my mother would invite those clients who had recently bought new homes and relocated to Michigan and did not have family nearby. This quickly become an annual minhag (custom) and encouraged us to be even more grateful on Thanksgiving that we were able to celebrate together with family.

The Jewish people place much emphasis on hospitality. We marry under a chuppah that is open on all sides to remind us of the mitzvah of hachnasat orchim. As we study the example demonstrated by our patriarch Abraham and our matriarch Sarah to welcome the stranger and make them feel at home, let us strive to be better hosts. Let us always be mindful to keep our tent doors open whether those doors are the doors of our home or the doors of our Hillel. Just as our people were rewarded because of Abraham and Sarah's genuine hospitality, may we all be rewarded with abundant blessings for making the stranger feel at home among us.

Prepared by Rabbi Jason Miller, Assistant director, University of Michigan Hillel

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Va'yera at MyJewishLearning.com.

Introduction

Yaakov is on the run. With purloined blessing and birthright in hand, he flees from his father's house and is seeking refuge with his uncle, Lavan. Yaakov pauses by a well where shepherds are gathered and the following scene is set:

Genesis 29:1-10

1. Yaakov lifted his feet and went to the land of the Easterners.

2. He looked around him, and there was: a well in the field, and there were three herds of sheep crouching near it, for from that well they used to give the herds to drink. Now the stone on the mouth of the well was large,

3. So, when all the herds were gathered there, they used to roll the stone from the mouth of the well, give the sheep to drink, and put the stone back on the mouth of the well in its place.

4. Now Yaakov said to them: Brothers, where are you from? They said:
We are from Harran.

5. He said to them: Do you know Lavan, son of Nahor?
They said: We know him.

6. He said to them: Is all well with him? They said: It is well? and here comes Rahel his daughter with the sheep!

7. He said: Indeed, it is still broad daylight, it is not time to gather in the livestock, so give the sheep to drink and go back, tend them.

8. But they said: We cannot, until all the herds have been gathered; only then do they roll the stone from the mouth of the well, and then we give the sheep to drink.

9. While he was still speaking with them, Rahel came with the sheep that were her father's for she was a shepherdess.

10. Now it was when Yaakov saw Rahel, the daughter of Lavan and the sheep of Lavan his mother's brother, that Yaakov came close, he rolled the stone from the mouth of the well and gave drink to the sheep of Lavan his mother's brother.

11. Then Yaakov kissed Rahel, and lifted up his voice and wept.

12. And Yaakov told Rahel that he was her father's brother and that he was Rivka's son.

Your Torah Navigator

1. From the time Yaakov sees Rahel, chart Yaakov's behavior toward her. What does he do first, what does he do next?

2. When does Yaakov kiss Rahel, before or after he introduces himself?

3. Why is that?

A Word

The wantonly secular novelist and anti-orthodox columnist, Meir Shalev, wrote a lovely book called Tanach Achshav (The Bible Now). He noted the peculiarity in that Yaakov kisses Rahel before he introduces himself. In fact, he notes the absurdity of the whole sequence of events. First he waters the sheep, then he kisses her, then he cries and then he introduces himself. Today, he might have been arrested prior to the introduction.

Meir Shalev claims Yaakov did this intentionally. For if he had introduced himself first then the kiss would have been the kiss of a cousin, and not of a man who was governed by the pure passion of romance. Yaakov shows his heart with his tears. He shows his passion for Rahel with his kiss and only then does he admit that he is also family. This scene foreshadows the lengths that Yaakov will go to be with Rahel.

As the Torah says: So Yaakov served seven years for Rahel, yet they were in his eyes as but a few days, because of his love for her.

It is a time of transition: on campus the quarter or the semester is approaching its conclusion and we Hillel field staff can turn our thoughts from programs, creating and giving, to replenishing ourselves at Hillel's Professional Staff Conference, in Israel or simply (and beautifully) with the people we love the most. Chanukah, too, is coming to an end; the menorah is moving from small light to great brilliance, reminding us, in the words of Hillel, of the beauty we experience when holiness increases. The moon in the sky is changing from waning to waxing, as we say goodbye to the month of Kislev and welcome in Tevet. And here in the northern hemisphere, the nights only have a week and a half left of lengthening before we reach the winter solstice, the shortest, darkest day of the year, and the pause before the sunlight hours begin lengthening and driving the darkness away. It is truly a time of transition.

Our Torah portion, Vayigash, also presents us with a time of transition and two great lessons about how to deal with change. In this portion, Joseph finally reveals himself to his brothers. He forgives them for selling him into slavery and bids them to bring their father, Jacob, and their entire family to Egypt where they can survive the famine and live in comfort. Jacob does not at first believe that his beloved son Joseph is still alive, but when he sees the wagons that Joseph sent to transport him, he takes heart and moves with his family to Egypt to see his son again.

So we have the reunion of a family - a good thing. But this is a family with a very complicated history, with lots of unresolved issues. In next week's portion, Joseph's brothers will express their worry about whether Joseph has forgiven them - and with good reason! We also have the move of the first Jews from the Land of Israel into Egypt. This, too, is a good thing - the family won't starve to death. But it is taking the family into exile and we know that the sojourn in Egypt was one that was ultimately filled with suffering. What can we learn from these transitions in our people's history that might help us with the changes in our own lives

Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berdichev, an 18th-century Chasidic teacher, makes a profound observation. He says that it is significant that Joseph sent wagons (Hebrew: agalot) to his father. The word wagon is derived from the word circular (Hebrew: iggul). So according to Levi Yitzchak, what Joseph was really telling his father was this: Don't be afraid of change. "The turning of events is likened to a wheel, something circular. Absolute compassion is like focused light (a line), but the processes of transformation are circular (translation by Rabbi Jonathan Slater)."

So the first lesson is to understand that the turn of events is a circle. There are times you have to go down in order to come back up again; this exile is not where the story will end. And the ups also give way to the not so happy; the joyousness of the reunion will fade to anxiety. So Joseph's presentation of the wagons was telling his father not to run away from change. Instead, embrace it, knowing that it is the way life (and the Divine) work.

And when we get seasick from the ups and downs, the thing that can guide us and steady us is that "focused light" - absolute compassion. Compassion is the first way the Divine is manifest in the world, according to mystical sources. Compassion reminds us of the bigger picture and comforts us as dignified human beings who are going through the vicissitudes of life together.

By understanding the nature of the changing world and approaching it with compassion, we allow the new situation to emerge with wisdom and meaning. May this time of outward change give us the opportunity to be fully present to the transitions in our own lives and to practice compassion together.

Prepared by Rabbi Lisa Goldstein, executive director of Hillel of San Diego.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Vayigash at MyJewishLearning.com.

This week's Sedra goes into great detail about Pharaoh's dreams. They are an interesting contrast to Joseph's dreams of the past Sedra. Let us examine the difference between the two men's dreams.

The Dreams

"And Joseph dreamed a dream and he told it to his brothers: 'Hear this dream which I dreamed: We were binding sheaves in the field, and my sheaf arose and stood upright, and your sheaves gathered and bowed to my sheaf....'

"Then he had another dream and told it to his brothers, and said, 'I have dreamed another dream: I saw the sun and the moon and eleven stars bow down to me.'" (Genesis 37:5-9)

"And it came to pass two years later that Pharoah dreamed that he stood by the Nile. And there came up out of the river seven beautiful, fat cows, and they fed in the reed-grass. And then seven other cows came up out of the river, ugly and lean, and stood by the other cows upon the bank of the Nile. And the ugly and lean cows ate up the seven beautiful and fat cows. So Pharoah awoke.

"And he slept and dreamed a second time: seven fine, good ears of grain came up on one stalk. And after them sprouted seven other ears, thin and blasted by the east wind. And the thin ears swallowed up the fine, full ears." (Genesis 41:17-24)

Torah Navigator

Why the Dreams? Why are these dreams recounted at such length? What can we learn from the differences between their dreams? Do they represent a fundamental difference between the worlds of these two men? Why did Joseph's power relate to dreams?

The Differences Between the Dreams

Our rabbis tell us that Joseph's dreams emanated from the realm of holiness; Pharaoh's did not. Joseph's dreams begin with an image of effort -- food earned by labor -- "We were binding sheaves." Pharaoh's food appears to come without any effort. In order for blessing to come to us from God, we have to make an effort. Our efforts open the conduits or channels for blessing to be conferred on us. That which we receive without effort lacks the activation energy that is necessary to make us partners with God (as is God's plan.) That which comes without effort is not wholly good.

Joseph's dreams progress from the lower to higher -- sheaves of wheat - to the cosmic -- sun, moon and stars. Pharaoh's come in the reverse. The cows (animal, higher) to the ears of grain (vegetable, lower). Joseph's dreams denote growth while Pharaoh's show decline.

The Difference Between Joseph and Pharaoh

The distinction between the Jew and non-Jew is the distinction between Israel and Edom. Our rabbis explain that the Torah charges the non-Jewish world (Edom) with responsibility for the physical world and the Jew with the responsibility for the spiritual. Our "chosenness" to be the "ohr lagoyim" a "light unto the nations" is not one of arrogant superiority, but rather, the charge to be "metaken olam" or as we in Hillel like to say, to do "tikkun olam," to perfect the world.

"Tikkun olam" means doing our utmost to correct the immorality and injustices we find in the world. As is patently apparent, the "blemishes" of this world are less physical than spiritual/moral. Hunger and poverty are not innate to physical existence, but more often than not, the failure of people to take care of each other. Abuse and violence are not natural phenomena, but perpetrated by immoral people. There is an even greater responsibility that the Jewish people have to
bear.

It seems that Joseph's act of greatness was not only his foretelling of the famine to come, but his genius in being able to guide Egypt – representing the entire civilized world at that time -- to planning for and regulating the supply during the famine itself.

It is an obvious truth that the wellbeing of this world is dependent on the ethical and moral behavior of its citizens. We Jews also believe that our (collective) physical wellbeing is dependent on our moral well-being (cf. The daily "Shma"). Thus it is a deep tenet of Judaism that "tikkun olam" is not just a "nice thing to do" but that the well-being of this world is dependent on us, the Jewish people, fulfilling our mission, what we were "chosen" to do.

And so we now understand Joseph better. He was known as "Yoseph Hatzaddik" Joseph the righteous. He had attained such a personal moral level that he was fit to received "Nevuah" - prophecy - from God by way of dreams (as was true of subsequent prophets). Joseph was charged to be the one to save the entire civilized world because he - as opposed to Pharaoh, who was preoccupied with himself and his own personal physical well-being - had the moral sensitivity to treat and feed everyone equitably. He felt personally and imminently answerable to God, with whom no one can play games or morally equivocate.

Our Dreams

We are the inheritors of Joseph "the righteous'" legacy. We are charged to continue in his way. The physical has its place and importance, but the world is dependent on the values that we transmit to others around us and to the next generation, the students we work with.

Joseph's dream was realized. Transforming this world - "tikkun olam" – is a realizable dream. It is our dream and is the dream of all our forebears. May God bless our efforts in Hillel, that we may fulfill our collective dream soon.

Prepared by Rabbi Ian Azizollahoff, Director, Hillel at Baruch College

Our Torah portion begins with a summary of the number of years of Sarah's life and quickly proceeds to her death. What of her life? Who was Sarah? What do we know about her?

Primarily, we know her as a woman who desired a child and did everything she could to protect that child. Her role as mother became her identity, even coming as late in life (at 90!) as it did. Our tradition refers to her in this manner, calling her Sarah Imeinu, Sarah our mother.

Sarah lived a long time before she became a mother. Who else was she in her life?

Let's start with her name: Sarah. It means "princess," "chieftainess," or "priestess," suggesting a powerful, gifted personality and aristocratic lineage. We tend to think of Abraham and Sarah as nomads of no particular societal status; rather, we should see them, Sarah in particular, as nobility. Perhaps she is descended, as Ellen Frankel, in The Five Books of Miriam, suggests, from a line of priests and perhaps her mother was skilled herself in prophecy. In this way, we could see Abraham and Sarah both as descending from spiritually-attuned families (according to the midrash, Abraham's father was in the idol-making business) who continued on the journey their parents began with them.

The rabbis say she was also called "Iscah" because she saw "with the holy spirit," which is to say that she had prophetic vision. Sarah was a spiritual leader along with Abraham: when they left Haran, they took with them "all the persons that they had acquired…." How does one "acquire souls?" Tradition understands that Sarah and Abraham converted the people in their community to monotheism - Sarah taught the women and Abraham the men. In fact, the midrash tells us that her prophetic powers were stronger than Abraham's. What did she teach them? How did she convince them to leave all they knew and travel to an unknown place on a journey fraught with danger? Clearly, she was a strong, charismatic and visionary leader.

Speaking of visionary, the name "Iscah" seems, in the minds of the sages, to have something to do with seeing and being seen, also refers to Sarah's exceptional beauty - "all saw her beauty." Her physical beauty was so extraordinary that, even as an elderly woman, she was the object of such desire that it put her safety and Abraham's life at risk. Beauty is clearly not always a blessing. But, for many of us, it's startling to think of Sarah as number one on People magazine's list of "Most Beautiful in the World Ever." Not only was she more beautiful than Eve herself, and not only did her beauty irradiate all of the land of Egypt, but it was undiminished by all the traveling she did.

When word of this beauty reached Pharoah, she was taken into his house, where she seemed to have an angel at her disposal for her protection. In the Talmud, Rabbi Levi says, "The whole night an angel stood with a whip in his hand; when she ordered, 'Strike,' he struck, and when she ordered, 'Desist,' he desisted." Sarah's beauty did not imply weakness or passivity; she had the capability to summon heaven's defense.

Yet power alone does not translate into a life of ease or consistent good judgment. Sarah, who desperately wanted to bear a son, gave her maid to Abraham to bear one for her. Yet, as soon as Hagar conceived, Sarah was wracked with pain and jealousy, striking out at both Hagar and Abraham. And when she learned that she herself was to give birth at the age of 90, she laughed. Did she no longer trust heaven's power? Or did she no longer trust her own?

Her death, which brings us back to this week's portion, immediately followed the akeidah, the near-sacrifice by Abraham of their son Isaac. The midrash teaches that it is learning of this news that killed her. Isaac (or perhaps Satan) appeared to her in a vision and told her what was happening on Mt. Moriah (prophetic powers aren't always a blessing, either) and the news of Abraham's plan was such a shock that she cried out (the calls of the shofar) and died. As the midrash says, "She did not even finish screaming and was already dead." It is a tragic end to a life of leadership and spiritual-cultural transformation.

Sarah's is a complicated, moving, human story of love and loss, striving, real failure and wild success. Beauty, vision, power, longing, struggle, laughter and change were among the characteristics of Sarah's life. And these, along with the (not significant!) beginnings of the Jewish people, are her legacy to us, a worthy legacy from Sarah Imeinu, our mother.

Written by Rabbi Lina Zerbarini, Joseph Slifka Center for Jewish Life at Yale

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Chayei Sarah at MyJewishLearning.com.

God said to Noah: The end of all flesh has come before me ... make an ark (tayvah) of gofer wood ... and this is how you shall make it ... A window (tzohar) you shall make for the ark ... with lower, second and third levels shall you make it (Berashit 6:13-16).

The following is the comment of Rabbi Israel Ba'al Shem Tov, the founder of Chasidut (born 18 Elul 5748/1697) from his teachings about prayer:

"A window you shall make for the ark (tayvah)." The word ark (teyvah) also means "word." When the Torah says, "make a window for the ark" it means, make a window, bring light to the "words" which leave your mouth. "Lower, second and third levels," this refers to the concept that every word has three parts: universe, soul and Godliness. The lower level is the universe level which emerges from the word, the second level is the level of soul, and the third is that of Godliness. "This is how you shall make it" refers (not only to the ark but) to the words that emanate from your mouth, that they should be with this consciousness (kavanah), that every word has universes, souls and Godlines.
~ Ba'al Shem Tov al Ha'torah, Amud Hatifilah, Noach 17

Your Ba'al Shem Tov Navigator
Why does the Ba'al Shem Tov transpose a passage in the Torah which is clearly about Noah building an ark into one about speech and prayer?

Do you think words can really be so deep and powerful?

A Word
The question is often asked about Noah: Was he really a righteous man compared to Abraham, or only righteous compared to the terrible people surrounding him (see Rashi Gen. 6:9)? Indeed, Noah is the man who never speaks and Abraham is the man known for speaking up. When God tells Abraham that He is going to destroy the cities of Sodom and Amorah, Abraham speaks up in their defense. But when God tells Noah that He is going to destroy the world, Noah is silent. It is precisely here, in the portion of Noah, that we must learn instruction for how to speak up, how to pray, and the power of words. Only in us speaking and praying with true depth, not just seeing prayer as a reading of words, but as the intense meditative Godly process can we create a tikun, a fixing, for the sin of Noah, the sin of silent obedience.

Prepared by Rabbi Hyim Shafner, campus rabbi, St. Louis Hillel at Washington University.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Noach at MyJewishLearning.com.

This week's Torah portion, Vayishlach, continues the story of Jacob as he returns to the land of Israel after his years of servitude to Laban. However, to understand the beginning of this week's paraha, one must remember the circumstances under which Jacob left. After Jacob tricked his father Isaac into giving him the blessing at the end of Toldot two weeks ago, Rebecca had sent him off to Haran telling him "Your brother Esau is consoling himself by planning to kill you." (Genesis 27: 41) So now, twenty years later, as Jacob prepares to return home, his mind naturally turns to his brother Esau and wonders what type of greeting he will receive. After sending messengers to let Esau know he was coming, dividing his camp into two parts, praying for God's protection, and receiving a new name and a new blessing, Jacob stands ready to meet Esau, still frightened at the unknown that lie ahead.

Genesis 33: 1-4
Looking up, Jacob saw Esau coming, accompanied by four hundred men. He divided the children among Leah, Rachel and the two maids, putting the maids and their children first, Leah and her children next, and Rachel and Joseph last. He himself went on ahead and bowed low to the ground, seven times until he was near his brother. Esau ran to greet him. He embraced him, and falling on his neck, he kissed him, and they wept.

Torah Navigator
1. Why does Esau travel with four hundred men? How does that affect Jacob's expectations for the encounter?
2. Why does Jacob place his children and their mother in the order that he does? What does it tell us about his feelings for his children and each of their mothers?
3. The word for "kiss" vayishakehu is written in the Torah scroll with dots above each letter. What is the significance of this word and why would the Torah scribes emphasize it in such a manner.

Esau's descendents are associated with the Romans, who become for the rabbis the ultimate symbol of secular authority. It is not surprising, therefore, that in different eras, we might find different interpretations of the meaning of Esau's kiss.

Tanchuma Vayishlach 4
Esau sought to bite him, but his neck turned to marble. This is the reason for the points, indicating that his kiss was not a sincere one. Why did they both weep? To what may this be compared? To a wolf which came to snatch a ram. Whereupon the ram began butting it with his horns, the wolf's teeth becoming entangled in them. Both of them wept; the wolf on account of his impotence and the ram for fear its enemy might try again to kill him. So too here with Esau and Jacob. Esau wept because Jacob's neck had turned to marble and Jacob, for fear that Esau might return to bite him. Regarding Jacob we have the text: "They neck is as a tower of marble" (Song of Songs, 4:5); regarding Esau: "Thou hast broken the teeth of the wicked." (Psalm 3:8)

Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch
The allusion to weeping is a sure sign that what we have here is a revelation of genuine humanity. A kiss can be superficial, but an outburst of tears is a strong presumption in favor of sincerity. Esau betrays his Abrahamic origins and shows himself as not merely a cruel hunger. Otherwise, he could never have reached such a leading position in the development of mankind. The sword alone, brute force, cannot accomplish this. Even Esau gradually relinquishes his sword and begins to feel the chords of human love. It is Jacob who usually provides him with the opportunity for showing his innate humanity. When the strong respects the strong, this is discretion. But when the strong, i.e. Esau, falls on the neck of the weak, of Jacob, and casts his sword away, then we know that humanity and justice have prevailed.

A Word
These two commentaries surely reflect two very different world-views, with the relationship between Jacob and Esau as an allegory for the relationship between Jews and outside secular world. It is not surprising that Midrash Tanchuma would presume that any attempts by the outside authorities to reach out to the Jewish community should be regarded with suspicion and concern. These texts were written and compiled during an era in which this was an appropriate response. In the same vein, it is also not surprising, therefore, that Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, the 19th Century father of modern Orthodoxy who was raised in an "Enlightened" environment and had a full secular education at a German public school, would interpret Esau's (and, by extension, secular culture's) gesture at face value and presume the sincerity.

All of us, whether consciously or unconsciously, interpret text according to our own values and world-view. Therefore, each of us must ask the question: are we likely to view a "kiss" from the secular world as a bite in disguise or as sincere expression of love? You may be amazed to discover how much your answer to this question colors the way in which you understand world events.

Prepared by Rabbi Marc Israel, director, KESHER.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Vayishlach at MyJewishLearning.com.

Joseph is suddenly "sprung" from jail to crack the dream-code for Pharaoh. After being washed and shaved, he is given a new tunic and is rushed to the royal court. Pharaoh says he has heard that Joseph has the ability to interpret dreams. Joseph replies that it is God who will parse Pharoah's cryptic, symbolic dream.

Joseph's/God's interpretation of the dream numbs Pharaoh and his court, but before they have time to recover, Joseph, now speaking for himself, offers the following unsolicited advice:

Genesis 41:33-36

"So, now let Pharaoh select a discerning and wise man, and set him over the land of Egypt. Let Pharaoh do this: Let him appoint appointed-overseers for the land, dividing the land of Egypt into five parts during the seven years of abundance. Let them collect all kinds of foods from the good years that are coming, and let them pile up grain under Pharaoh's hand as food provisions in the cities and keep it under guard. So the provisions will be an appointed-reserve for the land for the seven years of famine that will occur in the land of Egypt, so that the land will not be cut off by the famine."

Your Genesis Navigator

1. What is the difference between being discerning (Navon) and wise (Chacham)? Look them up in a dictionary.

2. Would you consider Yosef's pitch to Pharaoh discerning or wise?

Values Of Our Fathers, Pirke Avot 4:1

Ben Zoma said: Who is considered wise? One who learns from everyone. As it is said: From all who taught me have I gained understanding, when your testimonies were my meditation. (Psalms 119:99)

Who is considered mighty? One who subdues his primal urges. As it is said: One who is slow to anger is better than the mighty; and one who rules his spirit than one who conquers a city. (Proverbs 16:32)

Who is considered rich? One who is happy with what he has. As it is said: when you eat of the labor of your hands, happy will you be, and it will be well with you. (Psalms 128:2)...

Babylonian Talmud, Tamid 32a

Alexander the Macedonian said to the sages: Who is called wise? They replied: Who is wise? He who discerns what is about to come to pass. He said to them: Who is considered mighty? They replied: Who is mighty? One who subdues his primal urges. He said to them: Who is considered rich? They replied: Who is rich? One who is happy with what he has.

Your Navigator

1. Look at these two texts. Note where they differ.

2. Why does Pirke Avot give one definition of a wise person while the quotation from the Talmud gives another?

3. Which quotation is most analogous to Yosef?

A Word

Joseph goes from being the mouthpiece for the Holy One to a sly self-promoting prisoner looking for employment on the outside. His plan works. After Pharaoh sees that his court approves, he says:

"Since a god has made you know all this, there is none as discerning and wise as you." (Genesis 41:39)

Pharaoh mistakenly gives Joseph's "god" the credit for the strategy that Joseph himself had quickly designed after successfully interpreting Pharaoh's dream. Joseph capitalizes on this confusion and lets Pharaoh think that Joseph's plan to save Egypt was also Divinely inspired.
The words "discerning and wise," or in Hebrew navon v'chacham, describe two aspects of the intellect. To be discerning is to be perceptive or insightful while the primary definition of being wise is to possess knowledge that can be implemented usefully. (See the O.E.D.)

Joseph, in partnership with the Holy One, has the insight to translate the dream symbols of cows and sheaves into real facts that describe years of plenty and years of famine. His wisdom, however, is to devise a plan that will save Egypt and enhance his position at the same time.

Often, those who are discerning, those who see, have difficulty implementing what they envision, while those who can implement a vision may have difficulty seeing. Those who are discerning, the navonim or theologians, often see themselves in conflict with the chachamim, the engineers. It is rare and precious to have both qualities harmoniously complementing each other in the same body.

Joseph's heart is open to God and this is the source of his insight, but Joseph the engineer knows how to immediately translate his insight into a design that will release him from prison and save Egypt at the same time. As the verse in Proverbs says: "One who is quick in his work will stand before kings, he will never stand before the benighted." (Proverbs 22:29)

Parashat Vayetzei shows, in rich and rapid detail, the development of Jacob from the son of his father into the father of his sons. Leaving his parents' home in Be'er Sheva, he sets out to find his wife and fortune in Haran, and by the end of the parsha, he has become an independent man. In many ways, it is a story of adolescence giving way to adulthood.

One of the key features of the adolescent and post-adolescent transition is separation from one's parents. And we find that Jacob completes this separation in a very emotional speech to Laban toward the end of our parsha, Ch. 31:36-43. It is one of the most powerful speeches in the Torah. And yet, if the speech is the culmination of Jacob's transition to adulthood, it is perplexing that it is directed toward Laban, since Laban is not Jacob's father, but his uncle.

It seems that Jacob himself is aware of this: In his speech to Laban, he refers to "The God of my father Abraham, and the fear of Isaac" (31:42). Why doesn't he say, "The God of my father Abraham and my father Isaac?" I propose that from the outset of his journey, Jacob has come to understand that his relationship with his father is over, a victim of his deception in last week's parasha. This is part of a larger process of Jacob's internalizing and understanding the pain he has caused to his family.

When Jacob first encounters Rachel, the Torah gives us an interesting narration: "And when Jacob saw Rachel, the daughter of Laban, his mother's brother, and the flocks of Laban, his mother's brother, he came close and he moved the stone from off the well, and he watered the flocks of Laban, his mother's brother. And Jacob kissed Rachel, and he lifted his voice and cried." (29:10-11) The Torah goes out of its way to emphasize that Jacob saw the daughter and flocks of "Laban, his mother's brother," using the expression three times in a single sentence. Why? The Torah wants to stress that Laban is not Jacob's father—he is a man who will take on the role of father figure, and from whom Jacob will ultimately separate psychologically, but he is not Jacob's actual father.

As Jacob then waters the flocks of Laban, he kisses Rachel (the Torah here employs a beautiful wordplay, as the root of the word for watering the flock and kissing Rachel is the same—YSK). And this leads him to remember the last kiss he gave, namely the kiss to his father at the moment of his great deception: "And Issac his father said to him, 'Come close and kiss me, my son.' And he came close and he kissed him…" (Gen. 27:26-27). At the moment that he sees all these parts of Laban's life, he kisses Rachel and is overcome with the pain of his realization—he has been separated, physically and psychologically, from his father and mother. And it is because of his own behavior.

This is contrasted with Esau, about whom a parallel expression is used: "And he lifted his voice and cried" (27:38). Whereas the Torah highlights the expression "Laban, his mother's brother" in the verse immediately preceding Jacob's crying, in the case of Esau the expression "father" is mentioned three times in the first half of v. 38: "And Esau said to his father, 'Do you only have one blessing, my father? My father, bless me my father!.'" The Torah uses the exact same language to highlight that in this moment, Jacob fully realizes the pain he has caused his brother. He feels the pain of Esau, who has also been cut off from his lineage. Jacob thus experiences that, like his brother, he has been cut off from his family, and is in a very fundamental way not where he thought he was supposed to be.

The Torah gives a further hint at the separation of Jacob from his family in Laban's statement to Jacob upon seeing him: "Behold you are my bone and flesh" (29:14). The Hebrew here is "Ach atzmi u'besari atah," and is a clear reference to the moment of Eve's creation in Ch. 2 of Genesis, when Adam rejoices: "The one is the bone of my bone and the flesh of my flesh," (2:23), a verse that is immediately followed by the statement, "Therefore a man leaves his mother and father and cleaves to his wife as one flesh." Laban's words again highlight that Jacob is no longer in his parents' home, and that instead his growing up will occur under the eye of his father-in-law.

Tears are a leitmotif throughout this parsha, and indeed throughout the life of Jacob and his family: the tears of Jacob at meeting Rachel, the tears of Jacob and Esau at their reunion, Jacob's tears at learning of the "death" of Joseph, the tears between Joseph and his brothers. The midrash takes an image in the book of Jeremiah of Rachel crying for her children, and develops her into a figure of tears.

And yet at the root of all of this may be another midrash about tears—the tears of the angels that fell into the eyes of Issac during the Akedah, the moment when his father nearly sacrificed him at God's command. It was these tears, and this moment, that symbolized and perhaps set in place the blindness and the passivity of Issac. It was this blindness, and this passivity, which Jacob took advantage of. In this parsha and in the parshiyot to come, Jacob experiences his own manipulation at the hands of others. Thus in the background of the tears and tribulations of the family of Jacob hangs the Akedah, the traumatic formative event in the foundation of this family. As Jacob struggles with creating his own identity—and indeed his new identity, Israel—the tears he sheds (it is he who sheds tears, after all, and not his father or grandfather) will come to symbolize his struggle to internalize and transcend the pain of his family's history, and the joy of its life—an (the?) existential task of every human being.

Written by Rabbi Josh Feigelson, Campus Rabbi, Fiedler Hillel at Northwestern University

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Vayeytze at MyJewishLearning.com.

This parsha begins with the death of Sarah and endswith the union of Yitzhak and Rivka. Avraham had senthis trusted assistant Eleazar to find a wife for his sonYitzhak. He brings Rivkah back to Cana'an and the Torah relates to us what occurs as they approach.

"And Rivkah lifted up her eyes and she saw Yitzhak, and she came down from the camel. And she said to the servant, 'who is this man that walks in the field to meet us?' And the servant said, 'It is my master.' And she took the veil and covered herself. And the servant told Yitzhak all the things that he had done. And Yitzhak brought her into the tent of Sarah his mother, and he took Rivkah, and she became his wife, and he loved her. And Yitzhak was comforted for his mother." (Genesis 24:64-67)

Navigator

This strange interplay between our patriarch Yitzhak and our matriarch Rivkah is their first face-to-face meeting. No words are directly exchanged between them in the text, but their body language is revealing. The midrash (as quoted by Rashi) tells us that Rivkah was somewhat taken when she first saw Yitzhak, although she has to ask Eleazar (referred to as the servant in this chapter) who he is. First, however, she gets off her camel, perhaps for a better look. When she is informed that the young man is her intended she veils herself. This ancient form of courtship, preceded in this case by a pre-arranged parent-approved betrothal, is nonetheless charming for both the attraction displayed as well as the modesty and coyness of the initial approach.

Rivkah is entering a well-established and large household, and is immediately assuming the position of the highest- ranking female, her mother-in-law Sarah had recently passed away. In such a class-conscious society, this was a daunting task for one so young and inexperienced.

The Sefer Haggadah teaches us that "all of the time that Sarah lived, the Divine Presence hovered over her tent, and when she died it disappeared. As soon as Rivkah came, the Divine Presence reappeared. So long as Sarah lived, the doors of her tent were wide open; when she died that kind of hospitality departed. But when Rivkah came it was re-instituted. All the time that Sarah lived, there was the blessing of charity with her sustenance; when she died that also departed. But with Rivkah's coming it was brought back. So long as Sarah lived, the lamp of piety burned in her tent from Shabbat to Shabbat; when Sarah died, that lamp was extinguished. But when Rivkah came, it was rekindled."

Rivkah's own merit resulted in the gifts she brought to her new home and family, as she did not have the advantage of Sarah's tutelage. Yitzhak apparently learned this about her as well, since the text relates to us that first he brought her into Sarah's tent and only later did the
relationship develop. Rivkah is given both a physical as well as a spiritual space in which to grow and develop as a woman and a matriarch in her own right. It is only then that the Torah continues, telling us that Yitzhak loved her and was comforted for the loss of his mother.

In these few short verses the Torah beautifully relates how two perfect strangers begin a lifelong relationship by taking the time and giving one another the space to let the relationship grow and develop. Rivkah is allowed to use her own gifts, and to bring them to the household,
and thus she becomes one of the strongest of our Torah matriarchs and a pivotal player in the unfolding of our national saga.

Prepared by Rabbi Joseph Topek, Director, Hillel Foundation for Jewish Life State University of New York at Stony Brook

We read this week the beginning of the narrative of Joseph and his brothers. The opening notes of the story are certainly sour ones, sounding out a tune of family tensions, brotherly hatred, and a shocking act of violence and betrayal. In the opening lines of our parasha, we are treated to the background of the fissures that will soon tear the family asunder.

Two causes of tension between Joseph and his brothers are well known, and they both essentially boil down to a single emotion: jealousy. The brothers are jealous of the greater love Jacob their father feels for Joseph, a love symbolized and concretized by the gift of the colored coat Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber made famous. In addition to the unfair share of their father's love commanded by Joseph, the brothers also cast a sour eye upon the dreams Joseph insists upon relating to them, dreams which seem to portend great things for him. In relating both of these causes of family friction the Torah uses the Hebrew root shin, nun, aleph, meaning hatred, to describe the feeling the brothers have towards Joseph. The brothers, drawn together by a feeling of hate, are portrayed as one.

These two events tend to inform our view of Joseph's brothers as a gang, a group with a common cause and common goal. But the first incident of friction, detailed in the second verse of the parasha, should give us some pause from this assessment. It seems that only some of the brothers are involved, and the event does not engender a general feeling of hatred.

Joseph, the Torah tells us, spends time as an assistant shepherd for the sons of Bilah and Zilpah. Immediately after establishing this relationship, the Torah provides a terse and somewhat mystifying nugget of narrative, "And Joseph brought bad reports of them to their father." We are not told of the nature of the bad reports, and indeed there is some debate among the commentators as to whom, precisely is the subject Joseph's tattling. The eleventh-century commentator Rashi believes that Joseph is reporting on the bad things done by the sons of Leah, including the fact these "legitimate" heirs of Jacob were insulting the sons of the handmaidens by calling them slaves. The context of the verse, however, seems to indicate that the bad report could just as easily be about the brother he is working with, that is, the sons of the Bilah and Zilpah. It is clear, however, that not all of the brothers are involved.

Just as we are not told whom, precisely is affected by these bad reports, we are similarly not told of a reaction among the brothers. Rashbam, a twelfth-century scholar, tries to tie this incident with the other two by commenting that the Torah, "now counts all the different issues which caused them to hate him." Certainly he is right by proximity. But we are not told that this evil report causes hatred. The unanimity of feeling among the brothers, the hatred they all feel for Joseph, does not occur until the second incident, that of the coat. That shared feeling of enmity also marks the episode of the dream, which is the third of Rashbam's "issues" between the brothers. In our first incident however, the brothers never appear as a single, unified actor.

It is fascinating to note that, even as all of this anger comes to a head, and the brutal attack occurs, there is no unanimity among the brothers. Some wish to kill Joseph, while others, notably Reuven and Judah, act to save his life. The lack of unity among the brothers exhibited by the first incident reappears in this critical moment. It is almost as if some of the brothers remember that they never really hated Joseph all that much, and are repelled by how far the friction between them has been allowed to progress.

But by then, it is too late. The harmony of hatred has gone on for too long, and the dissenting voices cannot save Joseph. The division among the brothers emphasized in the first incident has been replaced by a hatred around which they could all coalesce, and by the time individual conscience is regained, the deed is done. Joseph is enslaved, and soon, very soon, all the children of Israel will follow.

This then, is one lesson of Joseph's brothers: the necessity to maintain our critical distance from any comforting consensus around issues which inflame our passions and, to invert Lincoln, strengthen the worst angels of our nature. We may find that when we do shake our individual conscience awake, and are able to view the world through our own lens again, we are too late, and the violence is done, and our brother is lost to us.

Written by Ethan Linden, Rabbinic advisor to the student Conservative minyan at Harvard-Radcliffe Hillel.

Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Vayeshev at MyJewishLearning.com.

Now that we have turned from the Jewish holidays into October, all of us should be floating comfortably into autumn. Here in Columbus, Ohio, the leaves are turning, beginning to display a hint of their perennial divine journey into their mini-deaths, as they change from their luscious summer green to their weathered edges of yellow, orange and red. They are a reflection of a world that is replaying a familiar script: the hunkering down, the building of protective walls for the oncoming harshness of winter. And we, vulnerable as we are to the winds of winter, also prepare ourselves for being indoors. Our sukkot - our last attempt at summer wilderness camping - have been dismantled and stored, the gutters get cleaned, the fireplace flues are opened, the wood piles accumulate beyond back doors, and Sunday afternoons are spent watching our football teams as afternoon shadows descend in the yard (apologies to the fans of the Fall Classic).

Long ago, our ancestral parent, Noah had his own preparations to make before Nature overcame the world. God asked him to build that ark, for protection against the looming tempest. But perhaps the ark-building project was about more than protection from the rising waters.

About the man Noah, the rabbis wondered, why is his name mentioned twice in the first verse of the parsha, "eilah toldot Noah, Noah ish tzaddik tamim hayah be-dorotav?" "This is the line of Noah, Noah was a righteous man; he was blameless in his age." (Genesis 6:9) They answered: Noah gave birth twice, once to the generation that followed him after the flood, and once to himself. Namely, through lifelong and momentary preparation, he raised himself to become the person that he was meant to be, the one person that could lead a generation through the storm. Just as he fashioned an ark that would serve as his floating zoo, he shaped himself to behave as a righteous person in a lawless world.

In the Torah, the word used for the ark Noah built is "teivah." Only one other time in the Torah is this word used. Can you guess where? Think for a moment. Where else is someone rescued by floating on the water? Yes! Yocheved placed Moses in a teivah to save him from the Pharoah's evil decree of murder. There are two teivot in the Torah, one for Noah and one for Moshe.

Genesis 6:13-14
God said to Noah, "I have decided to put an end to all flesh, for the earth is filled with lawlessness because of them: I am about to destroy the earth. Make yourself an ark (teivah) of gopher wood; make it an ark with compartments, and cover it inside and out with pitch."

Exodus 2:3
When she could hide him no longer, she got a wicker ark (teivah) for him and caulked it with bitumen and pitch. She put the child into it and placed it among the reeds by the back of the Nile.

Your Torah Navigator
1. What did those two teivot have in common?
2. Why is water the medium where the "saving" occurs?
3. Where else in our sacred narrative is water the vehicle to escape from destruction?

A Word
In modern Hebrew, the word teivah is used as a word for "box." In Rabbinic Hebrew, teivah also means a "word" in the Torah scroll. Ever look at the parchment from a little distance? Every word crafted by the sofer (scribe) appears like a little box. Perhaps our sages chose this very word, teivah intentionally to teach us that every word of the Torah is a little box, or ark, or basket that can save us. The words of the Torah are meaningful because they are windows to our past. But they also transmit meaning through our study of them, our meditating on them, our interpreting them and our sailing on them through the storms of our lives.

Like Noah, who built the teivah and in the process gave birth to himself, we give birth to ourselves when we open the teivot of the Torah and allow ourselves to be floated into the refreshing waters in them, with them, surrounded by them. In the process, we sustain Judaism and nourish ourselves as well. Without Noah, his teivah had no purpose. Without Moshe, his teivah had no purpose. Without you, the teivot of the Torah have no purpose and sit lonely inside an ark in a synagogue, which perhaps not coincidentally, is also called a teivah.

Prepared by Rabbi Misha Zinkow, Assistant Director, Hillel at Ohio State University.

There are two leaders highlighted in this week's parsha, Vayigash. One is Joseph, regularly heralded as a leader in many contexts. The second is Judah, whose leadership role is much more subtle. The parsha begins with Judah's impassioned plea to the still-masked Joseph to imprison him instead of Benjamin, who was found with the silver goblet at the end of last week's parsha. Judah, who convinced Jacob to let Benjamin journey with them to Egypt, steps up to the plate in a major way. He puts the mental and physical health of his father in front of his own freedom. This is a vastly different Judah than the one complicit in his brother's disappearance years before. Judah demonstrates his personal growth in this lengthy appeal.

But Judah is a quiet leader. Though his selfless offer is often regarded as a paradigm of leadership, Judah is subsequently mentioned by name only one time in the remainder of the parsha. His actions in securing Benjamin's freedom certainly made him a leader among his brothers, as he thought about the welfare of the family as a whole and acted on their behalf. After this incident, however, Judah is not a headliner.

Jacob does give a nod to Judah as a leader in sending Judah ahead of the family to Goshen. Rashi suggests that Judah was sent not only to prepare for the clan's arrival but, in fact, to establish a yeshiva in Goshen. You might expect an emotional interchange between father and son as Jacob implicitly forgives Judah for his role in betraying Joseph and entrusts him with this important duty, but no such scene occurs. It is not a glamorous task assigned to Judah but a fundamental one, for without schools Jewish tradition could not be passed on, and without preparation the family's move could have been much rockier.

Of the many leadership models out there, the one least often noticed is the model provided by Judah. This is a man who began as a leader with a vicious will and evil intent toward his younger brother, but now he leads by action and example. It is a true leader who acts without thought of reward or recognition. Judah reminds us to look for the quiet leader in our midst, not the person whose name is on the plaque, but the one who serves as the glue in your family, community or organization.

Prepared by Liz Rutzick, Director of Engagement, University of Maryland Hillel.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Vayigash at MyJewishLearning.com.

Genesis Chapter 18

The Lord appeared to him [Abraham] by the terebinths of Mamre; he was sitting at the entrance of the tent as the day grew hot. Looking up, he saw three men standing near him. As soon as he saw them, he ran from the entrance of the tent to greet them and bowing to the ground, he said, "My lords, if it please you do not go on past your servant. Let a little water be brought, bathe your feet and recline under the tree. And let me fetch you a morsel of bread that you may refresh yourselves; then, go on--seeing you have come your servant's way."...

Your Torah Navigator

Question: If you were Abraham would you leave God to go greet three strangers?

Babylonian Talmud, Shabbat 127b

Rabbi Yochanan said, "How great is [the mitzvah] of welcoming guests. The one who engages in this activity is as great as the one who goes early to the House of Study. As it is taught [in the Mishnah] "One is permitted to move heavy bundles on shabbat [in order to make room] for guests and to [prevent people] from leaving the House of Study"

Rabbi Dimi from Nahardea said, "Welcoming guests is greater, because the Mishnah teaches it first and then talks about making room for students.

Rabbi Yehudah said in the name of Rav, "Welcoming guests is greater than receiving the face of the Shechina (the Divine presence) as it is written, [about Abraham, Genesis 18] "My lords if it please you do not go on past your servant. Let a little water be brought..."

Rabbi Elazar said, "See how the ways of the Holy One are not like the ways of flesh and blood. Our custom would never allow a child to tell his elder to wait until I come back to you, while we see that the Holy One did so [waited until Abraham went to serve them food.] as it is written, "My lords or if it please you do not go on past your servant. Let a little water be brought..."

Rabbi Yohanan said, "There are six things that one eats the fruits from this world and the principal sustains him in the next world: Welcoming guests, visiting the sick, meditative prayer, rising early to go to the Beit Midrash, raising your children with Torah study, and judging each person favorably...

Your Talmud Navigator

1. According to Rabbi Yehudah in the name of Rav, what is the purpose of the Story about Abraham going out to greet the three men?
2. What is the relationship between getting up to study Torah and inviting guests home? Why are they compared?
3. How does the Talmud use this story of Abraham to prove its point?
4. Does it surprise you?
5. Why does being hospitable to strangers come before receiving the Divine presence?
6. Rabbi Yohanan mentions six things from which you will derive direct benefit in this world, i.e. that somehow your life will be better. Go down the list of six and explain how each of these six things will make your life better.
7. What is your list for a better life?
8. If the Talmud were running a Hillel, what would be its major pre-occupation?

This week's portion, Vayeytze, tells the dramatic story of two sisters, Rachel and Leah, who become involved in an embittered battle over procreation and love. Jacob and Rachel are enamored with one another and wish to marry. While Laban, Leah and Rachel's father, first agrees to this marriage, when the actual wedding night arrives he tricks Jacob into marrying Leah instead. On that fateful wedding night, Laban switches the sisters and the unknowing Jacob marries and consummates his marriage to Leah. Jacob eventually marries Rachel as well, but the sisters' relationship continues to be scarred by this manipulation. A vicious competition ensues between the women. Through their own childbearing and that of their handmaids, Bilhah and Zilpah, they play out their bitterness as they race to create progeny for Jacob in an effort to win his affection. The result of this competition is 12 boys, the heads of the 12 tribes of Israel, and one girl, Dinah.

If the source of Rachel and Leah's pain is their own father and the object of their misery their shared husband, why are they embroiled in a fight with one another?

We could ask the same question about women today. Our culture pits women against one another. From an early age, girls learn to hold themselves to an often unreachable and unrealistic ideal through the images and subtle messages they encounter in popular culture. Likewise in our story, we learn immediately that "Leah's eyes were weak but Rachel was beautiful and well-favored," shaping the readers' opinions of each woman. As their battle begins, we watch as two sisters with a shared destiny begin to look at one another with loathing and envy. They play a game in which the winner is she who secures Jacob's affection. The self-worth of each sister is at stake in this competition. Perhaps out of fear or powerlessness, they seem unable to direct their pain towards the true source of their pain, their father. The result is that they turn on one another.

Two midrashim point to a rabbinic discomfort with these two women being rivals. In one, Rachel foresees the trick Laban will play on her and Jacob and tells Jacob about the switch. Jacob gives Rachel tokens by which to identify herself on the wedding night so he will know if he is marrying the right daughter. But when the wedding night comes, Rachel says to herself, "No, my sister will be humiliated." So she turns the tokens over to Leah. Thus, Jacob remains ignorant until morning that he has married the wrong sister.

The second midrash from Bereshit Rabbah explicates a later episode in the story, namely, when Rachel is having trouble conceiving. Jacob prays for his barren, beloved wife. But according to this midrash, it is the household of women, Bilhah, Zilpah, and even Leah, who come together to pray, beseeching God to remove the curse of barrenness. It is only then that God remembers Rachel and she conceives a child.

Perhaps our forefathers' only concern was that two of our four matriarchs should not be archenemies. But we can take away a different message from these two stories. Women need not turn on one another in times of pain and turmoil. We might find strength and understanding within communities of women when we acknowledge our common pains and obstacles. Then may we see one another not as enemies, but rather, as the second midrash suggests, the key to our own salvation.

Prepared by Rabbi Mychal Copeland, Campus Rabbi, Stanford Hillel.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Vayeytze at MyJewishLearning.com.

Do you ever ponder what is the connection between end and beginning, how interconnected are the two, and did you ever wonder how one's end is another's beginning? Here is what our texts have to say about Jacob and the end of his life:

Genesis Chapter 47:28-49:1
And Jacob lived in the land of Egypt for seventeen Years. And Jacob's days, the years of his life were a hundred and forty seven years. When the time drew near for Israel to die he called his son Joseph and said to him "If I have now found favor in your eyes now place your hand beneath my thigh and you shall deal with me with loving kindness and truth. Do not bury me now in Egypt I will lie with my forefathers and you shall carry me out of Egypt and you shall bury me in their grave. And [Joseph] said' "I will do as you say" And [Jacob] said, "Swear to me" So he swore to him' and Israel prostrated himself on the head of the bed. Jacob called for his sons and said: "Gather and I will tell you what will happen to you at the end of days."

Your Torah navigator
1. What would you do with 147 years of life?
2. How can one know when it is his/her time to die?
3. Why does Jacob insist on being buried with his forefathers?
4. What is the point of the swearing?
5. Why did Jacob want to tell his sons about the End of Days, and what is the meaning of "The End of Days"?

One of our most famous commentaries, Rashi, addresses one of these questions.

Rashi Genesis 49:1
I will tell you: he (Jacob) wished to reveal the End (of the exile) and the divine presence departed from him and he began speaking about other things.

Your Rashi navigator
1. Way did Jacob try to tell his sons about the end of exile?
2. What is the benefit of knowing when is the end of the exile?
3. What is the divine presence?
4. Why did the divine presence stop Jacob from telling his sons about the End of Days?

A Word
There is at least one experience in everyone's life that is difficult to overcome without hardship - the act of moving from the past to the present; from the old to the new; saying goodbye and creating a new beginning. This experience occurs quite often - when we change our location, job, and other times in our life. Often it is accompanied by feelings of fear, nervousness, and sometimes anger. Sometimes it very hard to see where we are going and when something looks like it is coming to an end. Like Jacob and his sons, we have the responsibility to know when it is the end and when it is the beginning.

Jacob tells his sons that he is about to leave them, and at the same time hints about their future. He gives them hope by connecting the past - his life - with the future. We too have the power within us to look and search for ways to link the past to the future.

When things seem bleak, and we don't know what life has in store for us next, we need to remember to have hope and to trust that we are going to have a promising future. It is in our best interest to remember this and to create the link between the past and future! When we trust that a promising future will come, we can overcome any kind of problems that lie in our way! Good luck to all in your new future!

Prepared by Rabbi Meni Even-Israel, Campus Rabbi/Jewish Educator, University of Maryland, College Park.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Vayechi at MyJewishLearning.com.

Twenty-five years ago, when I was 13, I celebrated becoming a Bar Mitzvah at a very large Conservative congregation in Albany, N.Y. Because there were so many teenagers in the Hebrew school at the time, our celebrations were often not during the week of our actual birthdays and parshiot. I read from the Torah and had a big party in November when we read parshat Toldot even though my Hebrew birthday is back in Elul and "my" parsha is really Ki Tavo. In any event, I have felt a connection to this "adopted" parsha ever since.

I remember the drash that I presented that day. It was about God's answer to Rebecca when she complains about her difficult birth. I told the congregation (in my prepubescent voice) that if twins could not get along, how much harder it must be for nations to get along. I thought that it was very deep at the time. Now, as a professional Jewish educator, I see this parsha as containing some additional very important teachings and fascinating details.

Here is an overview of the portion. Isaac (meaning "laughter") and Rebecca ("pen-fatted calf") have twins, Jacob ("he will heel") and Esau ("completed"). Jacob spends most of his time in the tent while Esau is a Field and Stream hunter-type. Isaac loves Esau because of his hunting and cooking skills, and Rebecca loves Jacob, just because. Esau, born moments before Jacob, is the first-born but trades his birthright for Jacob's red lentil soup. Esau was then called Red. Isaac re-digs the wells that his father Abraham dug. Esau marries a local woman and both of his parents are upset. Isaac has become old and blind and calls to Esau to bring him some fresh meat and be given a birthright blessing. Rebecca convinces Jacob to dress up as Esau and get the blessing instead. Isaac blesses Jacob dressed up as Esau. Esau arrives and is given a less desirable blessing. Esau decides to kill his brother. Jacob, after being blessed a second time by Isaac, runs away from home to escape Esau and find a wife among his cousins back in the "old country."

Among the more interesting verses in this portion is the description of Esau when he sells his birthright. Genesis 26:34 says: "Jacob gave Esau bread and lentil stew. Esau ate, drank, got up, left, and rejected [or despised] the birthright." This is one of the longest string of verbs in the entire Torah, and it gives us a powerful insight into Esau's character. Esau is a man of action. When he feels like he is starving to death he sells his birthright. When he is satisfied, he gives the birthright no further thought. He eats, drinks, (evidently doesn't recite Birkat HaMazon) and leaves, not only the dining room table, but he also leaves his birthright and his heritage behind. Esau lives in the moment while Jacob plans for the future. About 25:34, Rashi teaches: "The text attests to Esau's wickedness, that he despised [not only the birthright], but the service to God."

Clearly the most famous part of the story is the deception of Isaac. But was it really a deception? When Jacob comes before his father disguised as his brother, his father says, "Who are you, my son?" When Jacob says, "It is I, Esau, your first-born," Isaac asks how he was able to return so quickly with food. Jacob's response uses the language of Jacob, not Esau: "God was with me." Jacob touches him and says, "Are you really Esau or not?" and then says, "The voice is Jacob's but the hands are Esau's." He then asks him again, "Are you really Esau?" and Jacob says, "I am." Isaac then smells his son and blesses him. While this sounds like Isaac was tricked, it is very interesting to notice that the blessing given to Jacob when he is disguised as Esau mentions being the future leader of the household, but there is no mention of the of the real birthright, the blessing of being the next spiritual leader of the family. Only when Jacob appears before his father as Jacob does Isaac bestow this blessing of God onto his son, and there is not even a hint of a reprimand from Isaac to Jacob for "taking" the first blessing. About this second blessing from Isaac to Jacob, Rashi adds: "'And I give you the blessing of Abraham (Genesis 28:4)' as God told him to do." So was Isaac tricked, or did he know who he was blessing and only blessed Jacob with the true blessing when he stood before him truthfully as the future leader of the Jewish people?

Our Torah and our traditions are not whitewashed. We are shown our ancestors in their true colors as a dysfunctional family. We learn from their failings and their successes. As we read these verses each year, as Hebrew school students, as Hillel staff, as children or as parents, the levels of meaning and understanding become ever more richer. From one generation to the next we encounter these stories and the Jewish journey continues.

Prepared by Rabbi Shalom Bochner, interim executive director/director of Jewish campus life, Santa Cruz Hillel

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Toledot at MyJewishLearning.com.

Genesis 48:20

"Israel will blessed through you (by saying) 'May God make you like Ephraim and Menashe...'"

Nachmanides Comments On The Verse In Genesis

"When Jacob says that Israel will be blessed through you, he was speaking to Joseph saying that through your seed will Israel be blessed. The blessing to be used is 'May God make you like Ephraim and Menashe.'"

Your Nachmanides Navigator

There is a Friday night tradition that parents bless their children before kiddush, before sanctifying Shabbat over the ceremonial cup of wine. For daughters, the blessing is: "May God make you like Sarah, Rivka, Rachel and Leah." For sons it is, "May God make you like Ephraim and Menashe," the two sons of Joseph.

The second part of the blessing is the same for both boys and girls. It is the priestly blessing for Israel that is also written in the Torah: "May God bless you and keep you. May God shine His countenance upon you and be gracious unto you. May God lift up His face toward you and always give you peace." (Numbers 6:24) The source for the boys' blessing is in this week's Parsha. It is written: "Israel will blessed through you (by saying) 'May God make you like Ephraim and Menashe...'" (Genesis 48:20)

1. The preamble to this familiar blessing doesn't seem to fit with the second half. The lack of symmetry between the two blessings is striking. The girls are blessed in the name of the matriarchs while the boys are blessed in the name of the matriarch Rachel's grandchildren. Why aren't the boys blessed in the name of the Patriarchs?

2. How does the verse that promises Israel will be blessed through Ephraim and Menashe explain why boys are not blessed in the name of the Patriarchs?

A Word

According to Nachmanides' commentary, we reiterate Jacob's blessing, in order to fulfill his promise to Joseph's children. We continue to be responsible for an ancient promise. Nevertheless, it would make little sense to bless our girls in the name of Joseph's sons, and it would be unseemly not to bless our daughters since Nachmanides maintained that all the people of Israel would be blessed through Ephraim and Menashe.

The solution to this dilemma is to take the formula of the blessing from the verse in Genesis, but substitute the matriarchs for Ephraim and Menashe. Even though they are not mentioned in the blessing for the girls, it is their blessing that echoes in the ears of Israel.

In one blessing many generations are acknowledged, and when we bless our children and our children bless their children, we not only continue Jacob's promise, but we have set the groundwork for his promise to be kept by our children as well. His promise is our promise as we are blessed and continue to bless those who are the source of much of our joy and blessing.

Ironically, while this week's parsha is called Chayei Sarah ("the life of Sarah"), it opens with details of Sarah's death. The parsha's first two lines provide specifics about her age and place of death. What follows is a lengthy account of Abraham's negotiations for a cave in which to bury Sarah. Thus, Genesis 23, the parsha's entire first chapter, seems to place exclusive emphasis on the procedure following Sarah's death; the life for which the parsha is named seems oddly absent.

One way to approach this apparent discrepancy is to examine the scene that evolves in chapter 24. Consider the following verses where Abraham and his servant discuss Isaac's future wife, whom the servant must bring back to Canaan from Abraham's native land:

5. And the servant said to him, "What if the woman does not consent to follow me to this land, shall I then take your son back to the land from which you came?"
6. Abraham answered him, "On no account must you take my son back there!
7. The Lord, the God of heaven, who took me from my father's house and from my native land, who promised me on oath, saying, 'I will assign this land to your offspring'-He will send His angel before you, and you will get a wife for my son from there.
8. And if the woman does not consent to follow you, you shall then be clear of this oath to me; but do not take my son back there."

After swearing that he will follow Abraham's instructions, the servant journeys to Aramnaharaim. There, he prepares to meet Isaac's mate:

11. He made the camels kneel down by the well outside the city, at evening time, the time when women come out to draw water.
12. And he said, "O Lord, God of my master Abraham, grant me good fortune this day, and deal graciously with my master Abraham:
13. Here I stand by the spring as the daughters of the townsmen come out to draw water;
14. let the maiden to whom I say, 'Please, lower your jar that I may drink,' and who replies, 'Drink, and I will also water your camels'-let her be the one whom You have decreed for Your servant Isaac. Thereby shall I know that You have dealt graciously with my master."

Your Torah Navigator

1. What appears to be Abraham's primary concern in addressing his servant? Why do you think this concern is so important to Abraham?

2. How does the servant craft a scene in which to meet Isaac's future wife?

3. What is at stake in the scene by the well? Does the servant's test for Isaac's future wife remind you of other tests we have encountered so far - why or why not?

4. The well was both a valuable resource in the desert and a common meeting place in this period. Are these the only functions played by the well in this parsha (or other places in the Torah)? Can you think of a deeper level of meaning for the well and the water it contains?

A Word

The scene between Abraham and his servant is electrically charged. Twice, Abraham adamantly forbids the servant to even consider taking Isaac "back there" to Abraham's homeland of Ur. God's promise to Abraham entails assigning "this land" -- Canaan - to Abraham's offspring. Clearly, Isaac's life, and the lives of Abraham and Sarah's offspring, must begin in "this land." The servant is fully aware that the very future of his master's progeny depends on whether he can convince a worthy woman to "consent to follow" him to a strange land and a partner she has never met. In a parsha named after the life of Sarah, the life of Isaac becomes the primary concern.

The prevalent water imagery in Genesis 24 makes it even more clear that life truly is the central focus of this parsha. Water is a long-standing symbol of fertility. We associate water with our origins in the ocean; we also begin our lives in a watery state in utero. From water we grow, and water continues to sustain life for all beings. Water's literal potency is amplified by the frequent Biblical connection between water and women, who are also fundamental fertility symbols. Consider Hagar, whom God's angel found "by a spring of water in the wilderness" (Gen. 16:7); Rachel, whom Jacob embraces by a well (Gen. 29:11); the daughters of Reuel, including Zipporah, whom Moses encounters by a well after fleeing from Pharoah (Ex. 2:15-21). There is also the traditional association of Miriam with several sources of water, including the Nile River and the Red Sea.

Rebecca's appearance at the spring represents the fertility and life-force connoted by the very water with which she fills her jar. She soon shows herself to be a woman worthy of sharing a life with Isaac: not only does she offer to quench the thirst of the servant, but she also fulfills the second part of the test by providing water for the camels. Rebecca tends to the needs of the individual man as well as his (animal) companions, a sure sign of her ability to nurture both her husband and a fledgling nation. Her status as daughter of Abraham's kinsman solidifies the servant's belief that Rebecca is the right answer to the crucial errand on which he has been sent.

So it may seem that the parsha named for Sarah's life is a misnomer, but indeed, it is not. Sarah's lifeline continues most evidently in her son Isaac, the inheritor of Abraham's promises. The rightful progression of Isaac's life is the way to honor and fulfill Sarah's life. The servant, much more than a mere messenger in this situation, knows full well that his success in finding Isaac's future wife will ensure that Isaac's life will be in accordance with God's plan. In the wake of Sarah's death, Isaac finds comfort in his wife Rebecca. As they enter Sarah's tent together, the forces of death and life intersect into an expression of love between the next generation of Israelite leaders.

Prepared by Hannah Graham, Iyyun Fellow, Hillel's International Center.

Dear Friend,

I thought I should let you know that I am planning to destroy the world soon. I'm sure it is no surprise to you, as it is quite clear how corrupt your species is (except for you of course. You are OK in my book). I've overlooked their idol worship and flagrant adultery, but this constant stealing from each other is just the last straw.

Anyway, it's going to be a flood, so make yourself a sea-worthy boat. Very sea-worthy, with no holes except for one window very high up, and a door. Shut yourself and your family up in it, and don't come out until I tell you to. In fact, don't even look out the window.

Sincerely,
Elokim (The Master of the Universe)

PS: It may be a while, so bring trail-mix.
PPS: You might want to think about calling a little more often.

Your Parsha Navigator
What would your gut reaction be to the above communication from God?

Read the following passage from this week's Torah Portion. What is Noach's reaction to God's message?

Noach was a just man and perfect in his generations, and Noach walked with God. The earth also was corrupt before God, and the earth was filled with violence. And God said to Noach, The end of all flesh has come before me; for the earth is filled with violence through them; and, behold, I will destroy them with the earth.

Make an ark of gopher wood. Rooms shall you make in the ark, and you shall pitch it inside and outside with pitch. And this is the fashion by which you shall make it. A window shall you make in the ark and the door of the ark shall you set in its side. With lower, second, and third stories shall you make it.

And, behold, I, myself, bring a flood of waters upon the earth, to destroy all flesh, where there is the breath of life, from under heaven; and every thing that is in the earth shall die.

But with you will I establish my covenant; and you shall come into the ark, you, and your sons, and your wife, and your sons' wives with you. Thus Noach did, according to all that God commanded him, so did he.

Your Midrash Navigator

The following is a Midrash, commentary by the rabbis of the Mishna (first century) on the Torah's statement that Noach was righteous "in his generation."

"In his generation"
Rabbi Judah and Rabbi Nehemiah argued. Rabbi Judah said, "Only in his generation was he a righteous man [by comparison]; but had he lived in the generation of Moses he would not have been called righteous. In the street of the totally blind, the one-eyed man is called clear-sighted."

Rabbi Nehemiah said, "If he was righteous even in his generation, how much more so [had he lived] in the age of Moses. He might be compared to a tightly closed vial of perfume lying in a graveyard, which nevertheless gave forth a fragrant odor. How much more then if it were outside the graveyard! "

Which rabbi's opinion do you agree with?
1. Is it a greater challenge to be righteous when others around you are also or when those around you are corrupt?
2. Is it the same for each of us?
3. Should righteousness be relative or absolute?
4. What would you have done in Noach's situation?

A Word
Three related points to think about:
1. Rabbi Israel Ba'al Shem Tov, 18th century founder of the Hasidic movement, reads the whole ark building as a metaphor of instruction in how to pray!
2. The word Noach in Hebrew means to rest, to be stagnant, or to die.
3. Abraham (a tent) and Noach (an ark) are both known for the very different structures they lived in.

Shabbat Shalom.

Prepared by Rabbi Hyim Shafner, Campus Rabbi, St. Louis Hillel at Washington University

This week's Torah portion begins at a climactic point in the confrontation between Joseph and his brothers. Joseph, who has not yet revealed his true identity, has seized Benjamin through contrived circumstances. Judah, who has taken personal responsibility for the safety of Benjamin makes a desperate attempt to convince Joseph to release Benjamin ...

Genesis 44:27-45:3
"And your servant, my father, said to us, 'you know that my wife bore me two sons: and the one went out from me, and I said certainly he is torn to pieces, and I have not seen him since (this is Joseph). And if you take this one also from before me and a disaster occurs to him you will bring down my gray hairs with sorrow to Sheol (death).' Now therefore when I come to your servant, my father, and the boy is not with us, their lives are linked. It will happen when he sees that there is no boy, he will die, and your servants will bring down the gray hairs of your servant, my father, to Sheol ...

And Joseph said to his brothers, 'I am Joseph, is my father still alive?' His brothers were startled and unable to answer him"

Torah Navigator:
1. What type of argument was Judah trying to employ in securing the release of Benjamin? In what way is this argument laden with irony?
2. What were Joseph's motives or feelings in revealing himself at this time? How can we understand his response, especially in light of the fact that Joseph must know from the content of Judah's argument that his father is still alive?

Rabbi Ovadiah Sforno (d. 1550)
"Is my father still alive - Is it possible that he has survived his sorrow and worry over me?"

Midrash Genesis Rabbah 93:10
"And he lifted up his voice to cry ... and [his brothers] were unable to answer him - Abba Cohen Bardela said, 'Woe to us from the day of judgment. Woe to us from the day of rebuke ... Joseph was the smallest of the tribes and they were unable to stand before his rebuke as it is written, His brothers were startled and unable to answer him, When The Holy One (God) comes and rebukes each and every individual according to what is, as it is written, I will rebuke you and set [your deeds] before your eyes (Psalms 50:21) how much more so [will we be startled and unable to answer].'"

Sforno and Midrash Navigator
1. The Midrash explains that Joseph was rebuking his brothers, according to Rabbi Ovadiah Sforno what was Joseph really communicating to his brothers in his rebuke? How did this succeed in silencing them?
2. Why does the Midrash make a comparison between Joseph "the smallest of the tribes" and God during the "Day of Judgment"? What is meant by "rebuking each and every individual according to what is."?

A Word
Rabbi Ovadiah Sforno and Genesis Rabbah understand Yosef's response to his brothers as a challenge or rebuke of their selling him into slavery. Judah had tried to plea to Joseph that he should have mercy on Benjamin because of the pain and hurt that it would cause to Jacob his father. Joseph replies rhetorically, "is my father still alive?" Or, in other words, how has Jacob survived the suffering that occurred when you sold me into slavery, ensuring that I would never see him again? Were you so concerned about his feelings then? To this blatant hypocrisy, Joseph's brothers could have no response.

Rabbi Yosef Dov Ber Soloveitchik, in Beit Halevi elaborates on the connection between Joseph's rebuke and the Day of Judgment. He explains that in our efforts to rationalize and defend our actions we often gloss over inconsistencies in our values. For example, we tend to feel magnanimous in our tolerance and politeness towards certain individuals (people that interest us or that we naturally like), not realizing that we are cold and unresponsive towards others. Judgment Day is particularly fearful to Abba Cohen Bardela in the Midrash, particularly because no individuals could totally escape inconsistencies in the applications of their values, certainly not before God who sees all our actions for what they are. The Midrash warns that we have to be wary of our justifications and tendencies towards self-righteousness, especially since human tendency makes them unavoidable. I would argue that whatever standard we have for judging the actions of others, it should certainly not be less gracious than the standards that we use for judging ourselves.

Prepared by Rabbi Ilan Haber, Senior Campus Strategic Services Associate, Hillel's Schusterman International Center.

In many editions of the Siddur (prayer book), the Akeida (binding of Isaac; Genesis, chapter 22) is part of the daily prayers. I am relieved that the custom of the "yeshivot" I attended was not to read that unit as part of the daily service. Although the Akeida is one of the most famous passages in the Bible, it is replete with many moral dilemmas and textual difficulties. The Midrash and the commentaries struggle with the text but the various resolutions are, to my mind, not convincing. I hear the Akeida read twice a year - on Rosh Hashanah and this coming Shabbat - and that is sufficient.

The silences in the text are awesome: the Bible doesn't reveal what Abraham was thinking when God asked him to make the ultimate sacrifice. What, indeed, was Abraham feeling as he slipped out of his house early in the day. Was he trying to avoid confronting his wife and others with the purpose of his journey?

Also troubling are the brief conversations during Abraham and Isaac's trip.

Genesis 22:7-8
Isaac said to his father Abraham, "Father!" And he answered "Yes, my son." And he said, "Here are the firestone and the wood; but where is the sheep for the burnt offering?" And Abraham said, "God will see to the sheep for His burnt offering, my son." And the two of them walked on together.

Isaac's innocent question - "Abba, where's the lamb for the sacrifice" - prompts Abraham to create a pious solution: "don't worry, God will find something, my son" he says. The Midrash, cited by Rashi, wonders how Abraham could have lied to Isaac, as the text implies. The Midrash is forced to suggest that the father's response really wasn't a lie. Abraham knew that an animal would not pacify; his remark to Isaac was a daring, oblique revelation of the horrible truth that "my son" was to be the sacrifice, not a lamb.

Rashi, Genesis 22:8
God will see to the sheep - That is to say, He will see and choose the lamb. And if there is no lamb, my son will go as the sacrifice. Even though Isaac understood that he was going to be sacrificed, [the text says] "And the two of them walked on together," with an equal heart.

Abraham couldn't keep the secret to himself. By sharing the ultimate purpose of the journey with Isaac, he included him in this ultimate test. And the Torah tells us that even after this revelation, "the two walked together." According to this Midrash, both father and son accepted the divine imperative with astounding obedience.

The moral problems presented by the Akeida story are perhaps best dealt with in the Torah's introduction of the story.

Genesis 22 (JPS translation)
"Some time afterward, God put Abraham to the test. He said to him, 'Abraham ... take your son, your favored son, Isaac, whom you love ... and offer him ... as a burnt offering on one of the heights ...' So early next morning, Abraham saddled his ass and took with him ... his son Isaac."

The Midrash struggles to figure out how God could command such an immoral deed. Rashi (on 22:1, based on the Talmud, Sanhedrin 89b) suggests that the introductory frame - "Some time afterwards, God put Abraham to the test" refers to a specific event.

Rashi Genesis 22:1
Some time afterwards. Some of our Rabbis say (Talmud, Sanhedrin 89) [this line refers to] after the incident with Satan. Satan was accusing, and said: "From all of the meals that Abraham made, he did not offer You (God) a single bull or ram." God responded, "Everything Abraham did was for his son. Yet, if I were to tell Abraham to sacrifice him before me, he would not delay."

Your Rashi Navigator
1. This unit opens with an introductory frame, which tells us that the following event - the Akeida (Binding of Isaac) - occurred "some time afterward." After what event? If this introduction seeks to connect the Akeida with a specific event, why didn't the text explicate it for us? The inclusion of an introductory timeframe has meaning only if the antecedent episode is identified.
2. Why does the Midrash (which Rashi is citing) feel compelled to include Satan in the story of the Binding of Isaac?
3. Who prompts this test of Abraham?
4. Why is God so confident that Abraham will obey?

A Word
The Midrash offers a remarkable review of God's command to Abraham: the Akeida is a test prompted by the devil. God, on His own, would not have dreamt of such a possibility; only Satan could have engendered such an immoral command. Such a conversation between the Almighty and the devil can't be recorded verbatim in the text; it only can be alluded to by a cryptic reference that the following episode happened after "you-know-what." (Sounds like a line out of Harry Potter ...)

Hazal (the sages) shared my fear of the Akeida. According to some midrashic texts the Binding of Isaac is a moral dilemma. The various attempts to justify God's command do not fully satisfy; the questions are better than the answers. Armed with the honesty of Midrash I now can endure the reading of the Akeida ... but only once or twice a year.

Prepared by Rabbi Charles Sheer, Director and Jewish Chaplain, Columbia University/Barnard Hillel.

Has there ever been a more dysfunctional family recorded in history than ours?

Probably, but the fact that our forebears were distinctly human is a source of comfort and strength, both offering us guidance in what to do (and what not to do) and validating the challenges of our day-to-day lives. Parshat Vayehi gives the notion of family, and the diversity therein, great clarity. His family reunited, Jacob calls his sons together for a fond (mostly) farewell. Each receives a blessing of sorts, or at least a bird's eye view into his future.

Genesis 49:1-27
Jacob called his sons and said, "Gather together that I may declare to you what lies before you in time to come. Gather around, sons of Jacob, and listen; listen to Israel your father." Reuben, you are my first-born... you shall not be foremost, for you mounted your father's bed... Simon and Levi are brothers, they carried out their malicious plans.... I will scatter them among Israel. Judah, your brothers shall praise you... Zebulon lives by the shore of the sea... Isachar is a strong ass.... He became a slave to forced labor. Dan is a judge of his people.... Gad, robbers rob him, and he, he robs and pursues them. Asher, his bread is rich, he provides food fit for a king. Naphtali is a swift hind, dropping beautiful fawns. Joseph is a fruitful creeper near the spring.... May [blessings] descend on Joseph's head.... Benjamin is a ravening wolf....

Torah Navigator
1. We can look at each of Jacob's sons, the twelve tribes of Israel and assign twelve different personality types to our students, or even twelve different ways that each student may present him or herself at any given time. What can we learn from Jacob's approach that we can import into our own life's work?
2. How do we not only effectively master the balance between communal and individual needs in our work, but also model and teach that challenge to our students who will often find themselves in the same position? (For an interesting insight on this question, see page 256 in The Orchid Thief, by Susan Orlean)
3. The more difficult challenge may actually be rendering all the individual personalities into a single klal, or whole. The United States Army is now changing its slogan from "Be all that you can be" to "An army of one," responding to the powerful force of individualism in our society. What links us together? Is it religion? Culture? Anthropologist Clifford Geertz wrote that "sacred symbols synthesize a people's ethos." How can we present these symbols as personally meaningful as well as communally binding?
4. As the last parashah in the book of Bereshit, we conclude the reading of Parashat Vayehi with the words, "Hazak, hazak, v'nithazek," "Be strong, be strong and let us strengthen one another." How does the Torah answer our questions about the source of that strength?

A Thought
Jacob speaks to each son individually, offering a comment on that son's strengths, gifts and abilities, and in some cases, weaknesses. It would have been far easier to offer a generalized hope for their futures, but Jacob opts to make the moment personally meaningful for each son.

I'm reminded of the recent New York Times obituary for Millicent McIntosh, former president of Barnard College, who completed her life's work last week at the ripe old age of 102. The obituary noted that she initially sent each of her five children to a different school, reflecting each child's needs and personality. She gave up one year, after attending five different Christmas pageants at five different schools and thinking she couldn't bear to hear "Silent Night" even one more time. The children were consolidated into a single school. At that point the needs of the family as a whole needed to supercede the needs of the individual. Whether we are talking about five, twelve or more, the effort to balance the needs of the individual with the needs of the group is ongoing. We are most effective when we can make the moment personally meaningful, but we are lost if we do so to the detriment of establishing a connection to the larger whole.

It's funny to think of Parashat Vayehi as the end of the beginning. It is the end of the stories of the patriarchs and matriarchs, but it is the precursor to the experience of enslavement and exodus. (See the Semisonic's song "Closing Time" - "every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.") We begin the enslavement experience as individuals, represented by the Jacob's twelve sons and even after years of bondage, we leave Egypt as an erev rav, a mixed multitude. The incorporating experience which focuses more attention on the "Israel" in our name rather than the "b'nei" (as in b'nei Israel, the children of Israel) is the revelation at Sinai. Even at Sinai, the midrash tells us, God spoke in one voice, but each person heard God's words in a way that was personally meaningful. Jacob's parting words are a foreshadowing of that moment, an understanding that unity and diversity are not mutually exclusive. They are a charge to us to leave no member of our extended family behind as we grow forward, together, toward a greater good.

Prepared by Rabbi Elyse Winnick, associate director, KOACH.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Vayechi at MyJewishLearning.com.

I think a lot about Abraham. Really. Abraham has such a prominent role in our collective story, the story of the Jews, the Christians and Muslims. The story of the "West." The story of a small group of people trying to overcome hurdles and naysayers and achieve something bigger even though it may seem at times to be intangible and unreachable.

In this week's reading, Va'yera, we see Abraham reaching his quintessential self - defender of all, challenged parent and religious explorer.

A quick summary:

God announces to Abraham (99) and Sarah (89) that they will finally have a son. God then tells Abraham of the coming destruction of Sodom and Gommorah. Abraham pleads on behalf of the towns but they are nonetheless destroyed, not having enough 'righteous people' to merit sparing. Lot, Abraham's nephew, is spared with his two daughters who get him drunk and then rape him to impregnate themselves! Sarah is kidnapped and released. Now, at age 90, she gives birth to Isaac and then asks Abraham to evict his older son, Ishmael, and his mother Hagar. Abraham complies. God then tests Abraham commanding him to sacrifice his son, Isaac. Isaac is spared yet, ambiguously, does not return with his father.

The timeframe is not clear. It may be 10 years, 13 or 40+, what is clear is the amount of tragedy and depth of the moral crises that were parts of the Patriarch's life. Who could imagine emerging from these challenges with any shred of belief or desire to continue on with holy work in this world?

We are, to some degree, living in a perpetual Abraham moment. Time frames have been condensed, birth, growth, tragedy and redemption come in more frequent cycles than ever before and at every moment humanity seems poised to turn to the Creator and say, "this was not part of the original bargain, you are asking too much."

Of course here is the catch. Abraham, shockingly, never turns to God and declares "Dayeinu" (enough already!). Who can understand the tests as true or fair tests of a human being no matter how special and attuned to the Divine will when the tester is unequally powerful and awesome?

There is a very profound dichotomy in Abraham's existence: when it comes to justice for the world, the people of Sodom for example, Abraham is an exemplar of 'speaking truth to power,' but when it comes to his personal life he, in my humble opinion, seems to fail. When Sarah has conflict with Hagar he lets the latter run away, when this conflict is renewed after the birth of Isaac he himself acts as Sarah's agent and sends Hagar and the teenaged Ishmael off into the wilds. When God asks that Isaac be sacrificed he doesn't argue at all.

To summarize: Abraham is an exemplar of the radical pursuit of justice in the world, he witnesses and copes with tragedy and nonetheless challenges the Divinity to make the world better. Abraham is also a victim of family conflict and morally ambiguous relationships with his wife and children and does not seem to have the same moral thermostat for internal affairs as he does for external.

I would, as is the way in spiritual work, like to convert this into a lesson that can be used for some proactive personal work.

Those of us who are members of the Hillel community are actively involved in bringing justice and greater sanctity to the world. Yet we may at times forget to be active in the same way at bringing sanctity and justice to our homes, offices and, most importantly, our own inner worlds.

The true test of the Binding of Isaac is not whether or not Isaac survives the attempt but rather, in my humble opinion, it is whether the relationship of the father and son survives the awesome experience of Divine Command and Sacred Closeness. When you examine the text this week notice that they travel 'together' on their way to the sacrifice but at the end only Abraham returns. I read this as a failed test.

The narrative in my head goes like this, "Abba, I understand how important it is for you to bring this knowledge to the world but today instead of having me as a partner I became a tool."

We can each have that conversation with our own souls, friends, lovers and children - how much are we arguing with God and ourselves when it comes to saving our own souls and those of the ones closest to us?

Written by Rabbi Mordechai Rackover of Brown/RISD Hillel.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Va'yera at MyJewishLearning.com.

To quote Alan Dershowitz " . . . The word chutzpah has both a positive and negative connotation. To the perpetrator of chutzpah, it means boldness, assertiveness, a willingness to demand what is due, to defy tradition, to challenge authority, to raise eyebrows. To the victim, it means unmitigated gall, nerve, uppityness, arrogance, hypocritical demanding."

In va'yechi, this week's Torah portion, I feel that Jacob recognizes both the positive and negative qualities of chutzpah, of passion, of anger. Before he dies, Jacob speaks to each of his sons with a message appropriate to their deeds and personalities. To Simeon and Levi, he declares: Cursed be their anger, for it was fierce and their wrath for it was cruel. I will divide them in Jacob, and scatter them in Israel.

Rashi comments: Even when reproving them, Jacob curses their anger, not them. Ramban points out that Jacob HAD to curse the use of their anger for two reasons. Firstly, because they put the name of G-d in Jeopardy as the people may have thought Simeon and Levi's actions were commanded by G-d and secondly, because Simeon and Levi used deceit when dealing the Chamor and Shechem after they raped Dinah.

However, as Nechama Leibowitz points out, Jacob does not deal with the motive of their anger on account of the way their sister, Dinah, was treated. Therefore, it appears that the Torah does not outrightly condemn the display of extreme zeal. On the contrary, if Jacob truly believed that the quality of zealousness was so dangerous, then he would not have scattered and dispersed those who display it throughout the nation.

On the other hand, as stated in Akedat Yitzchak, Jacob utters a truth which Aristotle has publicized in his Ethics. That is, "anger and temper,though undesirable qualities may sometimes prove useful in arousing the heroic in man." Or, in other words, anger in extremes is detrimental, but in moderation can be useful. Jacob wanted the qualities of anger and passion to be dispersed among all the tribes of Israel - as a little spread everywhere would prove useful, but if concentrated in one place would be dangerous.

As Hillel professionals, we must posess some of the passion and zeal that Simeon and Levi had, we must fight against Dershowitz's claim that American Jews don't have enough chutzpah, that we "are not pushy or assertive enough for our own good." Daily, we keep alive in us the anger and passion we feel against anti-Jewish and anti-Israel sentiments on campus, against our students assimilating and interdating. We constantly are taking these passions and creating positive programming from them.

Our students, too, are full of passion. Sometimes, though, they do not know how to apropriately channel their energies. We, as professionals, empower our students and teach them to use their passions in a positive way - to create programs, committees, and groups that address their specific concerns.

Dershowitz sees the goodness of chutzpah. Jacob saw the goodness of spreading around zealousness and passion. Hirsh states "The Holy One, blessed be he, did his people a kindness by scattering the tribes of Simeon and Levi among the rest of the House of Israel so that all members could share some of that badly-needed courage and zeal and Jewish pride." We, too, keep up our courage, zeal and Jewish prode, while at the same time empower our students to do the same and together with Hillel as the foundation, we can keep alive Jewish life on campuses, as we too, are spread out across the nations.

Prepared by Debbie Rubenstein, Director, University of Connecticut Hillel

In this week's Torah portion, Lech Lecha, the third portion in the book of Genesis, God speaks for the first time to our ancestor Abraham (whose name was still Abram at the time). The first sentence of this Parsha (Genesis 12:1) draws much attention from the commentators. "God said to Abram: 'Go from your land (Lech lecha m'eretzcha), from your relatives, and from your father's house to the land that I will show you.'" Thus begins the journey which will lead Abraham to find the land of Canaan, the Land of Israel that is the destination of the Jewish people throughout the Bible and even today.

A look at the Hebrew in this sentence, however, reveals a peculiarity. The word "Lech" is the command, second person form of the word, "L'lechet" - "to go." The next word, "lecha," is an article which tells us that the previous word is meant to be in the second person (for example, "Ten lecha" would mean "give to you"). Since the form of the verb "to go" the Bible uses is already in the second person form, the word "lecha" is superfluous. Commentators offer various meanings of this extra article, translating the sentence as "Go for yourself," "Go by yourself" or "Go to yourself."

Rabbinic tradition teaches that God's commandment to Abraham to leave his home is one of the 10 tests he is presented during his life. Some of the other tests, such as the binding of Isaac and the commandment to circumcise himself when he was 99 years old, seem to be the defining moments in Abraham's life. However, when Abraham is referred to later in this week's Parsha (14:13) as "Ha-Ivri" (literally, "The Hebrew"), our sages teach us that the word "Ivri" is a reference to the word "avar," from "l'avor" - "to cross over;" the Bible is referring to Abraham as "The one who Crossed Over."

Here, it seems Abraham's defining characteristic is that he crossed over the Euphrates to go to Canaan as God had commanded him.

Your Torah Navigator

1. Why do you think God's first commandment to Abraham is to leave his home? How will this help him fulfill his mission as the spiritual founder of the Jewish people?

2. How does the meaning of "lecha" in the first sentence change the sentence in each of its possible meanings (Go for yourself, Go by yourself, Go to yourself)? Can you make an argument for each of these possibilities being a "correct" reading?

3. Why would some of our sages consider this step in Abraham's life even more defining than some of the other climactic moments he experiences later?

A Word

While there are certainly enlightening and meaningful explanations for why "Go for yourself" (this was a great "career move" for Abraham) or "Go by yourself" (Abraham, his wife and nephew needed to go on this mission alone because they needed to start fresh), are viable translations of "Lech lecha." However, my favorite of the three is "Go to yourself."

Abraham was 75-years old when he was asked to start his life over again by leaving his homeland with a new task. Certainly, this was a difficult thing to do - it is never easy to leave one's loved ones, or the land one has grown attached to. But Abraham's success in his new mission depended on his ability to "re-invent" himself, and to realize the potential he had as the pivotal individual in the history of monotheism.

While Abraham had many difficult tests to overcome in his lifetime, the most important one is the first one we read about in the Torah: "Go to yourself." Realize what your mission in life is. Recognize your potential. Become YOU. Without this, there would never have been a covenant, a circumcision, a binding of Isaac, or a founding of the Jewish people.

This wasn't just a precursor to Abraham embarking on his tests and missions. It was a vital part of it. Part of any mission any one of us hopes to accomplish is to take a step back, look at oneself, and figure out what each of us needs to do to become the person we need to be in order to fulfill our purpose in life.

Abraham was told "Lech lecha" so that he wouldn't just pick up his things and start running. He needed to stop and turn inward first, to introspect and reflect on his life and who he was. Only after that could he fulfill the second part of the commandment, to go to the Land which God would show him.

May we all merit to remember to "lechu lachem," to go to ourselves, as an integral part of all the challenges on which we embark.

Prepared by Joel Lynn, Director, Goucher College.

It is often confusing, frustrating and strange that there are so many different ways to be a Jew. We frequently find ourselves meeting people who are Jewish but have entirely different practices from our own. It is often difficult to find ways to connect to one another when we disagree about what Judaism is, what Jewish law dictates, when Shabbat begins and ends and what it means to observe kashrut, along with so many other questions. Yet what we often forget is that Jews have always been diverse and there has always been tension, and perhaps it is for this reason that we should embrace our differences and reconnect for what we are: a diverse family, a family descended from the sons of Israel.

In Parshat Vayechi, we read of Yisrael, formerly known as Ya'akov (Jacob), and his farewell blessings to his 12 sons. He tells each son individually not about who he is, but about who he will be. He has vision for what qualities each son and his people will exemplify, and then he blessed them "according to what belonged to each as blessing, he blessed them" (Genesis 49:28). It is because Yisrael blessed his sons individually rather than collectively that we know distinctiveness is an important factor in Jewish identity.

Every quality that Yisrael envisions for the future generations are what today make the people of Israel diverse. The Jewish community's identity in the modern world is a fulfillment of Yisrael's vision for our people. We are everything positive and negative he predicts: urban, rural, rich, poor, pious, secular, soulful, empty, caring, selfish and so many other qualities that go unmentioned in Yisrael's vision. He predicts our diversity, our pluralism, and he also predicts that this diversity will all stem from his sons. We are all from the same family despite our differences.

Hillel, as a campus organization, strives to open its doors to all kinds of Jewish students. It is because of our history that we are diverse, and it is because we are family that we must embrace the pluralistic Jewish community of Hillel. As the Midrash Ba-Midbar Rabbah articulates when it says, "God divided the light from the darkness in order that it might be of service to the world," the light and dark must remain distinct and different in order to offer the world something different. Likewise, every Jewish student we will encounter on campus has something unique to offer both our community and the world. Despite differences in practice, despite the discomfort we often find with Jews unlike us, and despite what we believe at our core to be the "right kind of Jewish," we must open our arms and minds and remember that every Jewish student on campus, because of their history and because of their qualities, is a blessing.

Prepared by Jill Allenberg, lay leadership associate, Hillel's Schusterman International Center

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Vayechi at MyJewishLearning.com.

This week's portion, Chayeh Sarah, begins with the sad news of Sarah's death. We read on to find that Abraham goes to great lengths to secure a burial plot for Sarah, one final act of appreciation for the woman who did so much for him. If we review the last few weeks' Torah portions, we can rattle off a whole list of wonderful things that Sarah did for Abraham. Sarah left her home and got handed over to Pharaoh as Abraham's sister. Sarah understood Abraham's need for progeny so she gave Abraham Hagar, her servant, as a wife. Then Sarah gets passed off again as Abraham's sister, this time to Abimelech. Throughout all of these stories we do not see too many tender moments between Abraham and Sarah. In fact, the one romantic line that we hear is when Abraham says to Sarah, "Now I know that you are a beautiful woman," which is followed by, "So you'd better tell 'em you're my sister."

I realize that these acts of omission may be simply because the language of the Bible is terse. However, it seems to me that if there was room in the Bible to include the times that they laughed at each other about how old the other one was, that there may have been room for Abraham to show his wife some appreciation. It is only here when we read in Genesis 23:2 that Abraham came "to eulogize Sarah and to cry over her" that we see Abraham showing emotion toward Sarah. We may even ask that if Sarah is no longer alive, does this count? I would argue that it does since we find in the Babylonian Talmud in Sanhedrin 46b that the question is asked whether eulogies serve the living or the dead. Our very case here in Chayeh Sarah is brought as a prooftext to indicate that Sarah was pleased by the eulogy.

This reading of Sarah and Abraham's life got me to thinking that we often don't show the people we love the appreciation they deserve. How often do we tell our spouses, significant others, parents, children, students or friends that we love them? How often do we tell them that we appreciate them? If you aren't sure, think about how often you hear from them that you are appreciated and loved.

This is something we can work on. It is important to our relationships and to the happiness of those we love to find ways to express our appreciation. Our tradition gives us different ideas of ways we can show this kind of appreciation to our loved ones. The best examples of this come from the rituals at the Shabbat table. There is a ritual for blessing children, and this is a way to show our children how much we love them. There is the ritual of singing Eyshet Chayil, where a husband can express his appreciation of his wife. More and more Shabbat tables include songs that a wife can sing back to her husband or partners to each other. There are also developing blessings and songs for children to say to their parents, and we here in Hillel can develop blessings for our students and professionals.

It is clear that a few Shabbat table rituals are only the beginning. However, sometimes it is hard to find ways to express our feelings and it is important to take the opportunities we have (and they are too few) to express ourselves.

Personally, I find great meaning in singing Eyshet Chayil to my wife, Rachel. I am not a poet, and having the traditional words allows me to communicate more eloquently than I could on my own. In Midrash Hagadol on this week's parsha we find a teaching in Sarah's memory. It equates each verse of Eyshet Chayil with a woman of the Bible. That means that when I sing Eyshet Chayil on Friday night, not only are we saying, "I think you're great," we celebrate the person to whom we are singing by comparing them to every great woman of the Bible.

I am also excited because this week we have a child, our newborn son, to bless on Shabbat. However, you don't need to be married or have a kid on the way to connect to the importance of this teaching. This weekend many of us will gather with family and friends for Thanksgiving. We need to be aware of this opportunity to let people know that we love them and appreciate them, and we should be careful not to let it pass us by. It is essential to the health and endurance of our relationships to express ourselves in ways that let people know how much we care.

Our secular calendar is sensitive to this in giving us a national holiday designed to give us the chance to show our thanks. Our Jewish calendar is sensitive to this in giving us the opportunity and the means to share these feelings every Shabbat. Let's learn from the silence of Abraham that we need to be sure that those we love know it, and if we are lucky, we will be blessed to hear it in return.

Prepared by Rabbi David Levy, director of Jewish education, Syracuse University Hillel

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Chayei Sarah at MyJewishLearning.com.

Jacob/Israel is happy again. His sons have told him the good news, Joseph is still alive well and running the show in Egypt where he has single-handedly thwarted nature by saving up for the lean years. Jacob is about to make "yeridah" and before he does so, he brings sacrifices to Beersheba to the God of Isaac.

Rashi, the foremost medieval commentator, wonders why Abraham's name is not invoked here as well. He answers, "We learn from this that one is more obliged to honor his father than his grandfather."

Rashi's answer still leaves some questions. If both Abraham and Isaac's name were mentioned and Isaac's name came first, I might be able to accept Rashi's answer, but it certainly doesn't justify omitting Abraham's name completely. What are the attributes of Isaac's relationship to God that are unique and germane to this circumstance? What do we know of the God of Isaac?

Isaac was almost sacrificed by his father Abraham to God. He saw the knife. God is soon after called "Pachad Yitzchak" (Isaac's fear). Isaac's fear, the fear of incomprehensible punishment. The fear of the most Mighty of forces which render the small and mighty, vulnerable and exposed. The Torah hints to us that Jacob is afraid to leave the land of Israel and thus incur the wrath of "Isaac's Fear".

He appeals to the God of Isaac, whose life was almost taken, so that he may be allowed to see his son who was almost taken from him. Would it not be the cruelest of ironies for Jacob to die before being reunited with Joseph. Jacob is acutely aware that leaving the land even during a famine leaves him exposed and so he prays to the God of Isaac who tells him "not to fear" and that he is doing what has already been ordained. Jacob knows now that he will indeed be united with his son and that he is also assured that all of his steps will be assiduously following the plan of the Holy One.

This is the guidance he asked for and this is the guidance he was given. Jacob knew what he wanted to do, but he did not know if it was the "right thing". He required assurances. Sometimes the right thing is not the thing we would really wish to do. At these times, like Jacob, it is appropriate to recognize when that is and seek counsel from the "God of Isaac".

Prepared by Rabbi Avi Weinstein, Director, Joseph Meyerhoff Center for Jewish Learning

In last week's parsha, Rebecca is selected by Abraham's servant to wed Isaac. Her family asks her, "Will you go with this man?" and she answers "I will." Their blessing to her as she leaves is that she should be "the mother of myriads," that she should have numerous offspring - a wonderful blessing of fertility. But in this week's parsha, Toldot, Rebecca, like many of our matriarchs, has difficulty conceiving at all. And once she becomes pregnant, she has difficulties with the pregnancy. Our parsha begins:

Genesis 25:19-23
"Isaac pleaded with the Lord on behalf of his wife, because she was barren; and the Lord responded to his plea, and his wife Rebecca conceived. But the children struggled in her womb, and she said, 'If so, why do I exist?' She went to inquire of the Lord, and the Lord answered her..."

Your Torah Navigator:
1. How did Isaac plead with the Lord so that his prayers were answered?
2. What does Rebecca mean by "If so, why do I exist?"
3. What does it mean that Rebecca "went to inquire of the Lord"?
4. Did Rebecca hear God's voice when God answered her?

Rabbi Moses Maimonides, the Rambam, teaches concerning these verses that when the Torah says "And the Lord spoke to [so-and-so]," if that person was not a prophet, then the prophecy was told to that person by someone who was a prophet. In our case, he refers to the midrash of Genesis Rabbah to prove his point, saying that Rebecca consulted with those in the school of Eber:

Guide for the Perplexed II:41
Thus the text says: "And she went to inquire of the Lord" (Gen 25:22) but [the Sages] say in explanation: "To the school of Eber" (Genesis Rabbah LXIII). And that school gave her an answer; and it is with reference to the same event that it is said: "And the Lord said unto her" (Gen 25:23). And even though it has been said that the expression, "And the Lord said unto her," means that this was done through the agency of an angel, this should be interpreted as signifying that Eber was the angel; for a prophet is sometimes called angel, as we shall make clear. Or else this explanation alludes to the angel who came to Eber with the prophecy in question; or it is intended to make explicit that whenever words are unqualifiedly ascribed to God, they came, as we have explained in the case of the other prophets, through the agency of an angel.

Your Guide Navigator:
1. Was Eber the angel, or did an angel come to Eber?
2. What is Maimonides trying to prove by quoting Genesis Rabbah?
3. Could the angel have come directly to Rebecca?

A Word
In times of crisis, we cry out to God, as Rebecca did. Whether God answers, and how God answers is part of what these texts focus on. Sometimes we are unable to see the answers ourselves, but when we go to another person, outside our situation, they can see more clearly than we do. Rebecca is able to see clearly, later in our parsha, that Esau is the wrong son to assume the mantle of his father's leadership. There, she seems like a prophet. Here, she is too close to the situation and needs Eber's counsel. We all have times in our lives when we can be "prophets" or "angels" to others, and when others can be "prophets" or "angels" for us.

When Rebecca says "'If so, why do I exist?" it is an expression of despair--she sees no way out of her situation. But she does not give up. She goes to "inquire of the Lord" and, according to Rambam, to gain advice from Eber. It is important that when we are in situations for which we can not see our way out, that we do not give up. Among those we should turn to are our friends, family, teachers, colleagues, students, and to God.

Prepared by Rabbi Esther Reed, Assistant Director, Rutgers University Hillel.

Has there ever been a more dysfunctional family recorded in history than ours? Probably, but the fact that our forebears were distinctly human is a source of comfort and strength, both offering us guidance in what to do (and what not to do) and validating the challenges of our day-to-day lives. Parshat Vayehi gives the notion of family, and the diversity therein, great clarity.

His family reunited, Jacob calls his sons together for a fond (mostly) farewell. Each receives a blessing of sorts, or at least a bird's eye view into his future.

Genesis 49:1-27

Jacob called his sons and said, "Gather together that I may declare to you what lies before you in time to come.

Gather around, sons of Jacob, and listen; listen to Israel your father."

Reuben, you are my first-born... you shall not be foremost, for you mounted your father's bed...

Simon and Levi are brothers, they carried out their malicious plans.... I
will scatter them among Israel.

Judah, your brothers shall praise you...

Zebulon lives by the shore of the sea...

Isachar is a strong ass.... He became a slave to forced labor.

Dan is a judge of his people....

Gad, robbers rob him, and he, he robs and pursues them.

Asher, his bread is rich, he provides food fit for a king.

Naphtali is a swift hind, dropping beautiful fawns.

Joseph is a fruitful creeper near the spring.... May [blessings] descend on Joseph's head....

Benjamin is a ravening wolf....

Torah Navigator

1. We can look at each of Jacob's sons, the twelve tribes of Israel and assign twelve different personality types to our students, or even twelve different ways that each student may present him or herself at any given time. What can we learn from Jacob's approach that we can import into our own life's work?

2. How do we not only effectively master the balance between communal and individual needs in our work, but also model and teach that challenge to our students who will often find themselves in the same position? (For an interesting insight on this question, see page 256 in The Orchid Thief, by Susan Orlean)

3. The more difficult challenge may actually be rendering all the individual personalities into a single klal, or whole. The United States Army is now changing its slogan from "Be all that you can be" to "An army of one," responding to the powerful force of individualism in our society. What links us together? Is it religion? Culture? Anthropologist Clifford Geertz wrote that "sacred symbols synthesize a people's ethos." How can we present these symbols as personally meaningful as well as communally binding?

4. As the last parashah in the book of Bereshit, we conclude the reading of Parashat Vayehi with the words, "Hazak, hazak, v'nithazek," "Be strong, be strong and let us strengthen one another." How does the Torah answer our questions about the source of that strength?

A Thought

Jacob speaks to each son individually, offering a comment on that son's strengths, gifts and abilities, and in some cases, weaknesses. It would have been far easier to offer a generalized hope for their futures, but Jacob opts to make the moment personally meaningful for each son. I'm reminded of the recent New York Times obituary for Millicent McIntosh, former president of Barnard College, who completed her life's work last week at the ripe old age of 102. The obituary noted that she initially sent each of her five children to a different school, reflecting each child's needs and personality. She gave up one year, after attending five different Christmas pageants at five different schools and thinking she couldn't bear to hear "Silent Night" even one more time. The children were consolidated into a single school. At that point the needs of the family as a whole needed to supercede the needs of the individual.

Whether we are talking about five, twelve or more, the effort to balance the needs of the individual with the needs of the group is ongoing. We are most effective when we can make the moment personally meaningful, but we are lost if we do so to the detriment of establishing a connection to the larger whole.

It's funny to think of Parashat Vayehi as the end of the beginning. It is the end of the stories of the patriarchs and matriarchs, but it is the precursor to the experience of enslavement and exodus. (See the Semisonic's song "Closing Time" - "every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.") We begin the enslavement experience as individuals, represented by the Jacob's twelve sons and even after years of bondage, we leave Egypt as an erev rav, a mixed multitude. The incorporating experience which focuses more attention on the "Israel" in our name rather than the "b'nei" (as in b'nei Israel, the children of Israel) is the revelation at Sinai. Even at Sinai, the midrash tells us, God spoke in one voice, but each person heard God's words in a way that was personally meaningful. Jacob's parting words are a foreshadowing of that moment, an understanding that unity and diversity are not mutually exclusive. They are a charge to us to leave no member of our extended family behind as we grow forward, together, toward a greater good.

Prepared by Rabbi Elyse Winnick, Associate Director, KOACH

When Yosef (Joseph) brings his two sons (Efraim and Menashe) to their grandfather Ya'akov (Jacob) for a special blessing, Ya'akov asks a very peculiar question:

"And Israel¹ saw the sons of Yosef and he said: 'Who are these?' " (Gen 48:8).

Who are these?! They're your grandchildren, the children of your long-lost son who you were miraculously re-united with in Egypt. What's the problem? What is Ya'akov asking?

The answer given by Yosef is:
"They are my sons that God has given to me in this." Ya'akov then says: "Bring them to me and I shall bless them." (Gen 48:9)

So, Ya'akov didn't know that they were Yosef's sons? Only once their identity has been established does he consent to bless them? What's going on here?

It would be quite a stretch to say that Ya'akov didn't know these two young men. Surely, he doted on them as any grandfather would have, especially after missing their birth and early childhood. He would treasure them more than his other grandsons because he never even imagined he would see Yosef again, let alone his children. (See the particularly moving and emotional verse of 48:11.) The Midrash also says that Ya'akov was the boys' teacher, so they must have spent quite a lot of quality time together.

Some commentators (Rashbam, Radak) think it just means that he couldn't see them very well. We know that Ya'akov's eyesight had deteriorated and he may have been unable to identify the boys or be able to distinguish one from the other.²

Another intriguing possibility is that he was asking a more penetrating question than one of identity. The Or ha-Chayim ha-Kadosh (R. Chaim ibn Attar) suggests that he was not asking "what are their names?" or "who are they?" Rather, he was asking a leading question that would inspire Yosef to praise the boys -- to describe some of their deeper qualities -- before the blessing.³

As far as Yosef's answer, it is illuminating that he invokes God's name ("the sons that God has given to me"). He expresses to his father that his own beliefs have not changed as a result of being in Egypt for so long and that his sons are also truly new links in the chain of tradition. But it also unsatisfying, since it does not really tell us anything about the boys that we - or Ya'akov -- did not already know.

It also raises the follow-up question of why Ya'akov needs to ask this question at all, why he needs to know something deeper about them right at the moment before he blesses them.

There are a number of answers to this question, but (for the sake of brevity) I will suggest one: that he asked Yosef to praise the boys for the sake of the boys themselves.

Perhaps Ya'akov asked Yosef to praise his sons and reveal their inner qualities not for the sake of Ya'akov or Yosef, but so that the boys should hear their father saying nice things about them. Hearing their father praise them to a third party (in this case, their grandfather) would stir the boys themselves to aspire to the blessing they had been given.

This is a parenting technique that I think is valuable, though, as with all parenting, it requires some practice and artistry. My wife Shira will sometimes tell me in earshot of the children what a great job Rinat (4 years old) did helping her in the supermarket, how mature Nadav (7 years old) was in expressing his feelings, how well Nadav and Rinat sang the Birkat ha-mazon (grace after meals), how considerate Rinat was to share her cookies with Nadav or how well Nadav was taking care of Uriel (1.5 years old). These praises are not meant for me (though I do get nachas from them) and not for the sake of Shira. They are for our children, so they can hear what kinds of behaviors we value and admire and so that they can strive to be that way.

It is also not just for the children who are being praised, but for their siblings. Rinat should hear Abba (dad) and mommy praising Nadav and Nadav should hear about the virtues of Rinat. This is part of their learning to appreciate and be considerate of each other.⁴

Perhaps Ya'akov's obvious question - "who are these" - was just an opening for Yosef to express the love and admiration he had for his sons, so they would know that their father loved them and of what he thought them capable.

When I taught Nadav this week about the blessing given by Ya'akov to Menashe and Efraim, he smacked his head and said "Oh, so that's why you always say I should be like Menashe and Efraim," referring to the blessing of the children that I give him every Friday night. It reminded me of a comment in the siddur of R. Yaakov Emden where he encourages parents not only to say the blessing as it appears in the siddur, but to add on their own individual blessings each week. Perhaps from here, we could learn that one should first give a personalized blessing (the answer to "who are these" children really?), which can then serve to awaken the energy for the blessing ("May God make you like Efraim and Menashe") modeled after the blessing of Ya'akov to his grandchildren.

Shabbat shalom!

1. Israel is Ya'akov's other alias.

2. There are some problems with this theory. Among others, the question comes immediately after a soliloquy in which Ya'akov discusses "your two sons who were born to you in Egypt," when it clearly should have come before-hand. Also, the description of Ya'akov's myopia ("and Yisrael's eyes had grown heavy with age" comes afterwards as well; if it were meant to explain the question ("who are they") it should have come before as well. Also, it is not clear what the Torah means by "and Israel saw" if he did not recognize them. Both Rashi and Rashbam focus on answering this second question.

3. The K'li Yakar explains the question in a similar way to this, but with an interesting twist. Ya'akov sees that the future of the boys has both great good and great evil in it and so he asks: who are these boys? Are they incarnations of all the good that will come from them or all the evil. Yosef answers that we must focus on the good and Godliness that comes from them and not the evil. This has great ramifications for how we interact with and deal with people that have both attractive and repulsive qualities.

4. As a side note, we try never to point out mistakes and misbehaviors, only to encourage successes and good behavior.

Written by Rabbi Avi Heller, director of Jewish education
at Boston University Hillel.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Vayechi at MyJewishLearning.com.

These are the Generations of Noah: Noah was a righteous man in his generation: Noah walked with God.

Midrash Rabbah, Genesis 30:9

In his generation: There was a disagreement between Rabbi
Yehudah and Rabbi Nechemiah.

Rabbi Yehudah said: In his generation he was considered a righteous man, but if he would have lived in the generation of Moses or in the generation of Samuel then he wouldn't have been considered a righteous man.

In the market where the blind cry out, the one-eyed man is called clear-sighted.

There is a story of an individual who opened up one barrel of wine and found it had turned into vinegar. The same thing with the second barrel. The third barrel he found to be only sour (and so he took it). The others said to him, "That barrel is sour!" He answered back, "Is there any better?"...

Rabbi Nehemiah said: If he was considered a righteous man within his own generation, then surely he would have been considered a righteous man had he lived in the generation of Moses and Samuel.

This could be compared to a tightly closed flask of expensive perfume placed within a graveyard that still produced a pleasant smell. If it was outside the graveyard it would produce a smell that much better!

This could also be compared to a virgin that frequented a marketplace of prostitutes, and she didn't receive a bad name. How much more so if she was among better company!

Your Midrash Navigator

1. What ambiguity of the verse in Genesis is the Midrash coming to explain?
2. How does each Rabbi interpret the verse differently?
3. According to each Rabbi's interpretation how do we look at the individual in relation to the environment that he/she comes from? Do we judge people based totally on their own merits in isolation or do we take into account the environment that one comes from?
4. What do the metaphors used to describe the position of each Rabbi tell us about their outlook? What do they tell us about how each one views Noah in relation to his generation?
5. If you were Rabbi Yehudah, and the dean of admissions at the university that Larry is applying to, then would you accept him? What if you were Rabbi Nehemiah? Why? Would it make a ifference if you were a Democrat or a Republican?

A Word

Often affirmative action is framed as redress for wrongs done to minorities in the past. The lack of fairness and discrimination in the workplace demand that favor be shown to minorities for university admissions.

The rabbis frame it differently, at least Rabbi Nehemiah does. He would say that if a person could make it to school each day and slug out a "B" average even though he came to school hungry, if he passed an abandoned home being used as a "crack house" each day on his way to school, then he deserves a place at the table of the finest institutions in America on merit! How many of those sitting at our august institutions would have fared that well under those circumstances? That is the question and that is how our talmudists would have framed the discussion.

Prepared by Ilan Haber, Orthodox Rabbinic Advisor at Yale University with a word by Avi Weinstein, Director Joseph Meyerhoff Center for Jewish Learning.

Called VaYetzei (Genesis 28:10-32:3) this section refers to Jacob's leaving home, the first of this two famous dreams and his education. Like so many students, Jacob now sets out on the journey called life. Just like for so many students Jacob's first night away from home must have been frightening yet he dreamt of angles and possibilites. He quickly learned that growing up is not easy and that fear is a part of life. Jacob's journey parallels so many of the emotions felt by our students. Leaving high school and entering the world of college is somewhat akin to being born. College is a new beginning and graduation is its destination. Along the way, just as in Jacob's case, students will have many lessons to learn - not only those taught in the classroom but those that come through living with others and by being on one's own. Jacob left Be'er Sheva and began his journey to Haran. Haran, however was only the place, the real destination was maturity and adulthood. Along the way he would go from an innocent young lad to a mature young man, from weakness to strength and would learn the lessons of compasion, love, joy and fear and faith

Genesis 28:10-11
Jacob left Be'er Sheva and began his journey to Haran, and encountered a certain place. He had to spend the night there, for the sun had come in. Now he took one of the stones of the place and set it at his head and lay down in that place. And he dreamt: Here, a ladder was set up on the earth, its top reaching the heavens, and here: messengers of God were going up and down in it.

Your Torah Navigator
1. Was Haran really the final destination or merely the means to a final destination?
2. How does Jacob's encounter with a certain place parallel students' encounters on their journeys? What role does an encounter play in a journey?

A Word
Like Jacob, students are also on a sacred pilgrimage of human growth and it is a pleasure to watch that growth nurture it, guide it and at the same time stand back and allow it to occur. When Jacob awoke from his dream he had learned two things, that a ladder can ascend to Heaven only if its base if firmly established in the ground, and that if we do not seek G-d, G-d can be in a place and we will never know it.

We too must nurture dreams. G-d is present even during the most difficult periods of growth, and that while our hopes may extend to the heavens we must be wise enough to plant the basis of these hopes firmly in reality. These are essential elements of any life. College then is a journey, a journey that takes us from stage to stage, sometimes in pain and sometimes in joy.

Prepared by Rabbi Peter Tarlow, director, Texas A&M Hillel Foundation.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Vayeytze at MyJewishLearning.com.

Parshat Lech Lecha chronicles Avram's development and maturation into the role that God designates for him: to be the seed of a new people whose values are rooted in justice and righteousness. God tells Avram to "be a blessing," a cryptic phrase for the nascent leader and for us. What does it mean to "be a blessing?" As the parshah unfolds, we can trace Avram's development into this role. His growth shows us what it means to embody justice and righteousness; to be a blessing.

The parshah chronicles Avram's actions out in the world and in his own tent, giving us a sense that justice is equally important in public and at home. A series of episodes shows us that when his actions aren't guided by justice, he fails in both arenas.

While in Egypt as a public figure, Avram pretends that his attractive wife, Sarai, is his sister in an attempt to avoid harmful relations with his Egyptian hosts. Pharaoh takes her as a mistress and Avram gains wealth as a result. However, when Pharaoh discovers the truth, he berates Avram and banishes him and Sarai from his country. Ramban goes so far as to claim that Avram's immorality in Egypt ultimately causes his descendants to be enslaved there.

Avram fails similarly in his personal life when righteousness and justice are absent. At the beginning of the parshah, he renders his wife powerless and voiceless, both in his ruse with Pharoah and when he leaves his land with her: the text says that he literally "takes" (yikach) her with him. The power imbalance that this language implies is palpable. Sarai's silence persists for four chapters of the parshah, as Avram acts upon her rather than with her in their childless, inequitable relationship.

There is a pivotal change in the parshah when we see Avram begin to embody righteousness and justice both internally and externally. Publicly, this is most clearly demonstrated through his courageous and righteous dealings with foreign kings in a time of war. In two completely selfless acts, Avram organizes troops to rescue his nephew Lot from captivity and returns stolen wealth to neighboring kings. King Malki-Tzedek offers to pay him a great reward for the military feat, yet Avram declines the gift. His intent was to do justice, not to earn a profit — a stark contrast from his behavior in Egypt.

In the private sphere, Avram turns around his relationship with Sarai. She finally breaks her silence, and the text says that "Avram listened to the voice of Sarai." Compared with the dominant position illustrated by the earlier passage, this new language connotes an equitable relationship (vayishma — he listened, rather than vayikach — he took). After this key change, in the very next chapter, God promises Avram that his wife will be blessed and that she will bear a son.

Avram's public and personal maturation is poetically confirmed in the parshah's conclusion. God adds the divine letter "heh" to his name, so that publicly he is to be known as Avraham for the rest of his life. He then undergoes a circumcision, altering the most private part of his body. This two-fold transformation of public and private serves as a mirror image of his growth as a leader and a husband.

According to this read, Parshat Lech Lecha suggests that true leadership must be a combination of justice personally and politically. When we genuinely work to increase justice and righteousness in our own lives, we also cultivate these values externally; when we actively address global issues, we set the stage for developing just personal lives. All of these actions intertwined are what make Avraham, and us, a blessing.

Written by Sam Berrin Shonkoff, Jewish student life coordinator at Stanford Hillel. Sam also contributes to the American Jewish World Service's (AJWS) Dvar Tzedek program at www.ajws.org/parshah.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Lech Lecha at MyJewishLearning.com.

Noah dominates the Parsha that bears his name. This is appropriate. It is a straightforward story. It's dramatic, tragic and it has a flawed hero at the center. At the end of Noah story, the world begins anew. New hopes, new possibilities, a new future for humanity, "These are the generations of Noah."

...and then comes the next story...uh oh...

Genesis 11:1-10

Now all the earth was of one language and one set-of-words. And it was when they migrated to the east that they found a valley in the land of Shinar and settled there. They said, each man to his neighbor: Come-now! Let us bake bricks and let us burn them well-burnt! So for them brick-stone was like building-stone and raw-bitumen was for them like red-mortar. Now they said: Come-now! Let us build ourselves a city and a tower, its top in the heavens, and let us make ourselves a name, lest we be scattered over the face of all the earth! But YHWH came down to look over the city and the tower that the humans were building.

YHWH said: Here, (they are) one people with one language for them all, and this is merely the first of their doings-now there will be no barrier for them in all that they scheme to do! Come-now! Let us go down and there let us baffle their language, so that no man will understand the language of his neighbor. So YHWH scattered them from there over the face of all the earth, and they had to stop building the city. Therefore its name was called Bavel/Babble, for there, YHWH baffled the language of all the earth-folk, and from there, YHWH scattered them over the face of all the earth.

Your Parsha Navigator

1. What does "of one language and one set-of-words" mean?
2. What's wrong with building a tower and making a name for yourself so that the world will know who you are?
3. Why is God threatened by this?
4. How does this behavior differ from the behavior of the generation of the flood? (See Genesis Chapters 9 and 10)

This is an enigmatic story. It seems on the surface to condemn collective ambition as seditious. Anyone who has been told the Bible story assumes that the people had been more badly behaved than the text intimates. After all, God is responding to something. The midrash, through a close reading of the first verse offers several possibilities of what it means to be "of one language and one set-of-words."

Midrash Rabbah - Genesis 36:6

NOW ALL THE EARTH WAS OF ONE LANGUAGE AND ONE SET-OF-WORDS: Rabbi Eleazar said: That means, of veiled speech, for the deeds of the generation of the Flood are explicitly stated, whereas those of the generation of Separation (this is what the rabbis called the generation who built the Tower of Babel) are not explicitly stated.

AND OF ONE SPEECH (the Hebrew word for one (ACHaD) also contains the word (ChaD) which means prickly): that means that they spoke against two who were unique to the generation. They spoke against Abraham who was one and against The Lord our God, the Lord is One (Deut. 6:4). They said: 'This Abraham is a barren mule and cannot produce offspring.'

Against 'The Lord our God, the Lord is One,' they said: 'He has no right to choose the heavens for Himself and assign us the earth! Let us build a tower and place an idol on top waving a sword that will appear to wage war against Him.'

Another interpretation: AND ONE SET-OF WORDS (AHADIM) means what belongs to one belongs to the other, and what belongs to the other belongs to the first.

Yet from the flood no one was spared and from this incident everyone lived!!! It is because the generation of the Flood was steeped in robbery, as it is written, They remove the landmarks, they violently take away flocks and feed them therefore not a remnant of them was left. And since the generation of the tower, on the other hand, loved each other, as it is written, NOW ALL THE
EARTH WAS OF ONE LANGUAGE, therefore a remnant of them was left.

Rebbe said: Great is peace, for even if Israel practice idolatry but maintain peace among themselves, the Holy One, says, ' I have no dominion over them '; for it is said, Ephraim is united in idol-worship; leave him alone (Hos.4:17). But when their hearts are divided, what is written? Their heart is divided; now shall they bear their guilt.

Your Midrash Navigator

1. According to the various interpretations of the midrash, what crimes were committed by the tower builders?
2. Why would a community that did not believe in private property be a threat to God?
3. Do you imagine them being worse than those committed by the generation of the flood?
4. According to the Midrash what are the dangers of extreme unity?
5. In spite of the dangers, why does Rebbe find it admirable?
6. What is the difference between unity and diversity?

A Word

The rabbis understand that a unity which threatens diversity, which does not honor the uniqueness of peoples will create a mindless horde of people that would be easily swayed to rebel. They appreciate, however, that with unity there is peace.

Extreme unity, however, will breed wanton uniformity. Peace within will inevitably bring aggression from without. In a world where all the people are united, only God can stand in the way. And who is God to take the heavens leaving us only with the earth. God opts for diversity and all the struggles, battles and discord it brings. For extreme unity, a totalitarian unity distorts the belief that we were created in the Holy One's image into a belief that we are God in essence.

Better to babble on, than be "Borg" in the hive.

*EDITOR'S NOTE: Consult your local 'Trekkie' for an in-depth explanation of the Borg, a collective of assimilated, bionic beings incapable of expressing independent thought or taking independent action.

As the Torah portion Noach opens, God declares that humanity has become so corrupt that God has no choice but to wipe out the entire population and begin anew. Only Noah, his wife, his sons and his daughters-in-law are to be spared. Noah is commanded to gather representatives of each species of animals and build an enormous ark. Once Noah, his family and the animals are enclosed safely in the ark, there is a great flood. They do not emerge until one full year later, and indeed, they find that all of humanity has been wiped out. The parsha concludes with the story of the Tower of Babel, in which God confounds humanity's language as a punishment for their foolish attempt to reach the heavens.

In the Torah's account of the flood, nothing is revealed about what occurs within the ark while the torrential waters pour down upon the earth. It seems reasonable to ask what it was like for Noah and his family during the year they were inside the ark. How did they spend their time? Were they joyous, overwhelmed by gratitude for having been spared? Or was it a time of mourning for all that was destroyed as they realized their lives would never be the same?

The Midrash provides the details left out of the Torah's account and describes the scene inside the ark as most difficult. Noah and his sons, and presumably his wife and daughters-in-law, never got a good night's sleep, for they were occupied day and night caring for the animals, feeding each species the diet it was accustomed to eating on its usual schedule. As the waters poured down from the sky, the ark shook violently and the animals roared and screamed. Noah and his family were afraid and prayed for their lives. In the end, Noah is so terrified that he only emerges from the ark when God orders him to do so and, when he does, he is a broken man, limping and spitting up blood from injuries sustained during his difficult journey.

I appreciate the Midrash's account because it cautions us from thinking that Noah simply had it easy. Yes, his life was spared, but in return he also had to endure an extraordinarily difficult year before he could participate in the new world. When life is at its toughest and we have entered an especially dark place, we can easily fantasize about leaving everything behind and starting over. The parsha teaches us that while new beginnings are possible, transitions themselves can be enormous challenges. I imagine that once Noah emerged from the ark and had his first taste of beginning life anew, he indeed was filled with gratitude for this great blessing. Surely, he came to feel that his year of suffering in the ark was small compared to the great opportunity for a second chance at life, but he may not have been so sure during the journey.

May each of us have the wisdom to know that starting over is never without its own challenges. May we learn to brave the rough waters, and may we embrace our return to dry land with gratitude and joy.

Prepared by Rabbi Amber Powers, Dean of Admissions and Recruitment, Reconstructionist Rabbinical College.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Noach at MyJewishLearning.com.

This week's Torah portion, Vayetze, has all of the elements of a mini-series: a young man on a journey toward a new life, family intrigue, surrogate motherhood and big business. (So the business was goats and sheep - life on the ranch made "Dallas" popular in the Seventies.)

In the following verses, after many years of service to Laban, Jacob has left his father-in-law's household and has begun his journey back to Canaan. Ten days into the journey, Laban has caught up with Jacob and his family in the hill county of Gilead. Not only is he angry that Jacob left in secrecy but also that his household idols have been stolen.

Read the verses below, taking notice of the words in brackets.

Genesis 31:33 -48
33: So Laban went into Jacob's tent and into Leah's tent and the tents of the two maidservants but he did not find them. Leaving Leah's tent, he entered Rachel's tent. 34: Rachel, meanwhile, had taken the teraphim (idols) and placed them in the camel cushion and sat on them; and Laban rummaged through the tent without finding them. 35: For she said to her father, "Let not my Lord take it amiss that I cannot rise before you, for the period of women is upon me."

36: Then Jacob became angered and he took up his grievance with Laban; Jacob spoke up and said to Laban, "What is my transgression, what is my guilt that you should pursue me? 37: You rummage through all my things; what have you found of your household objects? Set it here before my kinsmen and yours and let them decide between us two. 38: These twenty years I have spent in your service, your ewes and she-goats never miscarried, nor did I feast on rams from your flock. 39: That which was torn by beasts I never brought to you; I myself made good the loss; you exacted it from me, whether snatched by day or snatched by night. 40: Often scorching heat ravaged me by day and frost by night; and sleep fled from my eyes. 41: Of the twenty years that I spent in your household, I served fourteen years for your two daughters and six years for your flocks, and you changed my wages time and again. 42: Had not the God of my father, the God of Abraham and the Fear of Isaac, been with me, you would have sent me away empty-handed. But God took notice of my plight and the toil of my hands and God gave me judgment last night."

43: Then Laban spoke up and said to Jacob, "These daughters are my daughters, the children are my children and the flocks are my flocks; all that you see is mine. Yet what can I do now about my daughters or the children they have borne? 44: Come, then, let us make a pact, you and I, that there may be a witness between you and me." 45: Thereupon, Jacob took a stone and set it up as a pillar. 46: And Jacob said to his kinsmen, "Gather stones." So they took stones and made a mound; and they partook of a meal there by the mound. 47: Laban named it Yegar-sahadutha, but Jacob named it Gal-ed. 48: And Laban declared, "This mound is a witness between you and me this day." That is why it is called Gal-ed.

Guiding questions:
1. Why does Jacob refer to the idols as household objects?
2. Why does the text tell us the name that Laban gave to the place where the pact was made if it was not called by that name in the end?
3. Is there anything idiosyncratic in one's speech that can be linked to the area in which one is raised? Can others view this idiosyncrasy as offensive?

"Yegar-sahadutha," the name given by Laban in verse 47, is the first use of Aramaic in the Hebrew Bible. Both this name and its Hebrew counterpart, "Gal-ed" can be translated as "the mound is a witness." Sforno, a 16th century scholar, suggests that though both men gave the place the same name, the Torah includes each to teach us that Jacob would not abandon the holy language even though he lived with Laban for a number of years. In verse 37 the choice of words is far more loaded. In calling the household idols for which Laban is searching "objects" instead of the name Laban would have used - teraphim - Jacob's disdain for the items is clear.

A Word:
On college campuses, or other places where large numbers of people from diverse backgrounds gather, there are likely to be differences in language and usage. One often hears conversations in which the merits of the words pop and soda, or gym shoes, tennis shoes, and sneakers are discussed. In the last number of months, language aficionados such as William Safire have written on the relative virtue of such politically loaded words as "freedom fighter" and "terrorist." During the month preceding Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, we are often hyper-vigilant about the words we choose. These verses from Vayetze reminds us that we should be deliberate in our speech all the time, not merely on the days when we are aware that judgment is at hand.

Prepared by Rabbi Toby H. Manewith, Senior Director of Education, George Washington University Hillel.

Genesis 16:1-7

And Sarai the wife of Avram gave him no progeny, but she had an Egyptian handmaiden whose name was Hagar. And Sarai said to Avram: Behold I am beyond years of child bearing. Come to my maidservant and maybe I will build [a family] from her. And Avram heeded the voice of Sarai. And Sarai the wife of Avram took Hagar the Egyptian maidservant at the end of ten years to dwell with Avram in the land of Canaan. And he gave her to Avram, her husband for a wife. And He came to Hagar and she conceived. Once she saw she was pregnant, her mistress became unimportant in her eyes. And Sarai said to Avram my anger is upon you. I gave you my maidservant in your lap, and she knows she is pregnant, and I have become insignificant in her eyes. Let God judge between me and you. And Avram said to Sarai: Here is your maidservant. Do what you like with her. AND SARAI AFFLICTED HER AND SHE [HAGAR] FLED FROM HER.

Nachmanides on verse in capital letters:

Our mother sinned by afflicting her and so did Avraham by allowing her to do so. And God heard Hagar's cries and gave her a son who would be "a wild ass of a man" (Genesis 16:12) who would afflict the seed of Avraham and Sarah with a multitude of misery.

Genesis 21:1-11

And the Lord visited Sarah as he said he would and the Lord did as He had spoken. And Sarah conceived and gave birth for Avraham a son in his old age at the time God had said to him. And God called his son that had been born to him by Sarah, Yitzchak... And the son grew and was weaned and Avraham had a feast to celebrate the day of Yitzchak's weaning. And Sarah saw that the son of Hagar the Egyptian that was sired by Avraham-playing frivolously. And she said to Avraham: Banish that maidservant and her son for the son of a maidservant will not inherit with my son-with Yitzchak. And this was evil in the eyes of Avraham on account of his son Yitzchak.

Your Torah Navigator

How are the two episodes with Hagar different?

Why, according to Nachmanides did Sarai sin when she
afflicted Hagar?

Why was banishing Hagar and disinheriting Ishmael not considered a sin? Weren't both acts similar in cruelty?

A Word

When Sarai afflicts Hagar the first time. It is her pride and hurt feelings that causes the reaction, but when she asks that Hagar be banished she is doing so in the interests of her son, but not only her son, but the Jewish future as well. There was only going to be one inheritor and who was it going to be? Sarah realized that the miracle of her giving birth was not a personal one. It was the fulfillment of God's promise to Avraham. It was her job to do what was necessary to ensure that the miracle would not be for naught.

God approves because God knows that Hagar has been promised a son with a future. Avraham is told this as well, but his future is with a nation apart from the Jewish people. The Ramban blames the enmity between these two nations on the harshness of Sarai and the callousness of Avraham. According to him, everything is personal -- even the political.

Prepared by Rabbi Avi Weinstein, Director, Hillel's Joseph Meyerhoff Center for Jewish Learning.

We know the scene. A kinetic blur of activity, the hunter Esau bursts into the tent, and finds his brother Jacob cooking a stew. Suddenly desperate for the "red stuff," Esau is willing to trade anything - even the family birthright - for a bowl of his brother's concoction. Jacob, ever the crafty "heel," is only too willing to oblige.

What are we to make of Esau's actions? Certainly, Esau doesn't fare so well in the rabbinic calculation. Shifting the discussion from Jacob's deception to Esau's character, the sages conclude that Esau simply didn't deserve his status as first-born. Sforno, for instance, claims that Esau's Torah nickname - Edom, "Red" - is derogatory, as if to say, "You are so divorced from normal human values that you can only see food by it's color - a person like you should be red, like that stew you want so much!"

Ouch. Does this seem unfair? If so, what do we do with Esau?

First, remember that Esau the hunter did not hoard the produce of his hunting. Rather, he used his labor to show his love for Isaac, bringing his father fresh and tender meat. How many parents wouldn't mind their kid bringing a nice steak dinner every week?

So if he does respect his father, why does Esau so callously spurn the paternal birthright, selling it for stew? Certainly we could call the behavior "impulsive."
Impulsivity is to be expected from a man who is skilled at hunting - he must make immediate judgments about external stimuli out in the field.

An outdoorsman. A man of high activity. A man of impulsive behavior. Dr. Ora Horn-Prouser has suggested the possibility that in Esau, we have the first recorded case study of Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. Was Esau the first ADHD student?

The American Psychiatric Association (APA) lists a set of criteria that often characterize persons with ADHD. An ADHD individual is easily distracted, often acting impulsively. Frequently, he will hop from one activity to another, without completing the first - a trait often labeled as a character-flaw, a "lack of follow-through."

Selling the birthright for food, then, may be evidence of an ADHD diagnosis - after all, Esau has just returned from the field, presumably hunting. Did he not have game that he himself could prepare? But that would take forever. The stew is in front of him, already prepared. For the ADHD individual, the prospect of pursuing a deliberative process with a hazy outcome promised at an uncertain time can seem unbearable. The "new thing" in front of his face, on the other hand, can suddenly become the sole object of his laser-like focus.

The text gives further illustration of a man captive to his own impulsive behavior. After securing the stew, the text relates of Esau that vayochal vayeisht vayakom vayeiACH, "he ate, he drank, he got up, he left . . ." A list of verbs, all denoting action, all in quick succession. No nouns, and no deliberation - all physical, all movement.

The APA also notes that the ADHD individuals often misplace key materials, and may have a poor sense of time. Explicit instructions can be helpful here. Think about Isaac. When sending Esau to hunt for one of his final meals, Isaac still tells his son ata sa-na cheilecha tel'y'cha v'kashtecha, "now please take your gear, your quiver and your bow." Shouldn't the lifelong hunter know what to take? Isaac continues, tzei ha-sadeh v'tzudah li tzayid va'asei li . . . v'haviah li, "go out into the field and hunt for me some game - and prepare it for me . . . and bring it to me . . ." Perhaps Isaac knows his son very well.

Some of you, of course, may be skeptical. Our society is often suspicious of the diagnosis. Many people think nothing of ridiculing ADHD in public, forgetting that people in the room may have ADHD or have family with ADHD.

Seeing the condition in our sacred texts gives us a forum to discuss it with compassion and consideration. Furthermore, we see that there are ways to deal with the condition to augment the pharmaceutical help available. Remember Isaac's detailed instructions to his son, helping Esau carry out the tasks he needs to complete. Remember too Isaac's love for Esau. Rather than taking his behavior as a personal affront, Isaac lovingly devises ways for Esau to succeed.

As Hillel professionals, we meet all types of students. Some of them seem to succeed effortlessly. Some are not so lucky. May we have the foresight to look for those students whose challenges may obscure their brilliance. May we have the compassion and patience of our father Isaac to walk with such students, helping their lights to shine as the stars of the sky.

Written by Michael Rothbaum, campus Rabbi/program director at Hillels of Westchester.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Toledot at MyJewishLearning.com.

Parashat Lech Lecha begins:

God said to Abram, "Go away from your land, from your birthplace, and from your father's house, to the land that I will show you. I will make you into a great nation. I will bless you and make your name great. You shall become a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and he who curses you, I will curse. All the families of the earth will be blessed through you." (Genesis/Bereishit Chapter 12, verses 1-3)

Your Parsha Navigator

1. Abraham is told to "go away from" three different aspects of his home.

What does each element add to our understanding of the verse? The series of places to leave behind begins with the most general description of his home and ends with the most particular--does this order make literary sense?

What significance might be deduced from this arrangement of aspects of home?

2. God is overly clear about what Abraham should leave behind, but explicitly withholds information about where he will be going.

Why won't God tell Abraham where he's supposed to end up?

How might that "not knowing" impact Abraham and his journey--how will he travel differently?

How might that "not knowing" impact Abraham when he actually arrives at his ultimate destination--how will he arrive differently?

What is the difference between a journey with a known destination, and one without?

What does his willingness to go under such conditions reveal about Abraham?

3. What reward is promised to Abraham?

Would Abraham have set out on the journey without the promise of such rewards?

What is the relationship between the first, more personal rewards (being made into a great nation, being blessed, and having his name made great) and the final, more universal blessing, that "all the families of the earth will be blessed through you.?"

4. What does it mean to have one's name made great?

5. What does it mean to be a blessing for other people?

Your Midrash Navigator

When the Holy One said to Abraham, "Go away from your land, from your birthplace, and from your father's house," what did Abraham resemble? A vial of scent with a tight-fitting lid put away in a corner so that its fragrance could not go forth. As soon as it was moved from that place [and opened], its fragrance began to go forth. So the Holy One said to Abraham, "Abraham, many good deeds are in you. Travel about from place to place, and the greatness of your name will go forth in my world." (Genesis Rabbah 39:2)

1. Why is Abraham "sealed up" while home? Why is he not truly appreciated until he leaves home?

2. Who will appreciate him once he goes forth? How? Why?

3. How would you respond to a divine call? How would you be regarded by those close to you?

4. When is someone heeding a divine call, and when are they "hearing voices?" Would Abraham be regarded, in our day, as having psychological problems? How can we tell the difference?

5. Abraham's summons by God and his going forth occur immediately following his father's death. Why might it happen at that time? Why might it not have happened until then?

A Word

The three aspects of home that Abraham is supposed to "go away from"--from his land, from his birthplace, from his father's house--are listed in order from the least to the most difficult spiritual connections that he must sever. He is summoned to leave the comfort and safety of his present, actual situation in order to pursue a future, a potential one that promises greatness but is fraught with fears and pitfalls.

The situation faced by Abraham in Lech Lecha is, put simply, that of life itself. Abraham's courage created a well of blessing from which we can still draw in our own day. Inspired by Abraham's example, may we each find the courage to continually transform our lives into a blessing.

Shabbat Shalom.

Prepared by Rabbi Jeff Sultar, Cornell Hillel

When not considered in context, the opening sentence "Jacob went out from Be'er-Sheva, and went toward Haran," (Gen 28:10) seems quite innocuous. We see Jacob, born a follower and destined to remain on the heels of Esau, his older twin brother, leaving one city and going to another one. On the surface, this is not major news, especially when compared to the opening lines of the weekly Torah portion Lech-Lecha:

"The Lord said to Avram: Go-you-forth from your land, from your kindred, from your father's house, to the land that I will let you see. I will make a great nation of you and will give-you-blessing and will make your name great. Be a blessing!" (Gen 12:1)

Avram is given a commandment to leave his home for someplace completely new with the guarantee of receiving a blessing, whereas Jacob presumably is just moving from one place to another.

Context, however, does matter. Jacob is not just leaving Be'er-Sheva, he is running for his life. Fearful of Esau's anger over the birthright gained by Jacob in questionable ways, Jacob knows that he must go quickly. He is not just going to the next town, but leaves the Land of Israel and makes his way to Haran, the far away city in Mesopotamia, originally home to his grandparents, Avram and Sarai, and their family. No command is necessary, even though Rebecca tells Jacob "arise, flee to Laban my brother in Haran." (Gen 27:43) Jacob leaves because he has to.

Taken in context, the start of this week's Torah portion has quite an unsettling tone (maybe only surpassed by the eighth verse of the opening chapter of the book of Exodus). Jacob's story, in essence, recounts the first instance of Jewish exile from the Land of Israel. Curiously, however, the Hebrew word expressing the concept of exile (galut - Hebrew root: gimel, lamed, hey) is not used in this passage. Jacob leaves, and the Hebrew word used to express this is va-yeitzei (Hebrew root: yud, tzadi, aleph).

Things to consider:

1. Jacob goes into exile - galut. The Hebrew root gimel, lamed, hey, has two separate meanings. One deals with being uprooted or separated from one's rightful place. The other deals with discovery, revealing and uncovering what is hidden. How does Jacob's journey away from his home signal a moment for his personal discovery? How does his story relate to our own personal stories as well as the overall story of the Jewish people?

2. There are actually two different Hebrew terms used to express the concept of living outside of Israel - galut (exile) and t'futzah (Diaspora, dispersion). Are there real differences in these two terms? If so, what are they? If you live outside of Israel, which of these terms would you choose to describe your situation and why? If you live in Israel, which of these terms would you choose to describe life outside of Israel and why?

3. We refer to the Exodus from Egypt using the same Hebrew root used at the start of this week's Torah portion (y'tziat mitzra-im - Hebrew root: yud, tzadi, hey). What do we learn from Jacob's exile beginning with the same word that marks the end of our enslavement in Egypt?

Prepared by Rabbi Andy Koren Campus Rabbi, Hillel Foundation at the University of Florida

After the drama of the akeda (binding) of Isaac in last week's parasha, the Torah continues with the ironically titled Chaye Sarah (life of Sarah), which begins with Sarah's death and burial. Abraham, after making arrangements for a burial plot and grieving for Sarah, immediately sets out to find Isaac a wife, working to fulfill God's promise to continue the brit (covenant) through Isaac. Abraham sends his servant to his birthplace to find a wife for Isaac. Before going forth, Abraham asks the servant to swear to the following oath:

Genesis 24: 2-9
And Abraham said to the senior servant of his household, who had charge of all that he owned, "Put your hand under my thigh and I will make you swear by the Lord, the God of heaven and the God of the earth, that you will not take a wife for my son from the daughters of the Canaanites among whom I dwell, but will go to the land of my birth and get a wife for my son Isaac," And the servant said to him, "What if the woman does not consent to follow me to this land, shall I then take your son back to the land from which you came?" Abraham answered him, "On no account must you take my son back there! The Lord, the God of heaven, who took me from my father's house and from my native land, who promised me on oath, saying 'I will assign this land to your offspring' - God will send an angel before you and you will get a wife for my son from there. And if the woman does not consent to follow you, you shall then be clear of this oath to me, but do not take my son back there." So the servant put his hand under the thigh of his master Abraham and swore to him as bidden.

Your Torah Navigator
1. Why was it so important to Abraham that Isaac's wife come from his birthplace? Why wouldn't he have wanted Isaac to marry someone from Canaan?
2. Twice Abraham makes the servant promise not to take Isaac out of Canaan. What might he have feared if Isaac left the land?
3. The concept of oaths plays a central role in this story. How many oaths are made reference to, what are they, and who is making them?

One of the central concepts in Jewish thought is that human beings are in partnership with God. Not only do we need and depend upon God, but God also needs and depends upon us to fulfill God's plan. God promised Abraham that eretz Yisrael (the land of Israel) would be for his descendents for eternity. But it is Abraham who works to fulfill the promise by not letting Isaac leave the land, for fear he might not return. This partnership is even more explicit in some of the commentaries on the verse.

Rashi, the classic 11th century commentator on the Torah, notes that Abraham refers to God in two different ways in verses 3 and 7. In verse 3, which was happening in the present tense once Abraham was already in Canaan, Abraham refers to "the God of heaven and the God of the earth." However, in verse 7, which refers to the past, before Abraham went forth from his birthplace and before God had established the covenant with him, Abraham refers only to "the God of Heaven." Rashi explains that this is to teach "now that people refer to God regularly, God is the God of heaven and earth, but before God took Abraham forth from the land of his forefathers, God was only the God of heaven and not earth, because people did not regularly recognize God's presence on earth."

A midrash (rabbinic folklore) takes this concept even a step farther:

Sifre Devarim
Until Abraham, our father, came to the world, it was as if the Holy One of Blessing was only ruler over the heavens, as it is said "Lord, God of the heavens who took me..." (Genesis 24:7), but since the time that Abraham, our father, came to the world, God has ruled over the heavens and the earth, as it is said "I will make you swear by the Lord, the God of heaven and the God of the earth" (Genesis 24:3)

Your Midrash Navigator:
1. What does the statement "it was as if the Holy One of Blessing was only ruler over the heavens" mean? What are the implications of this statement?
2. Taken together with Rashi's comment, what is the key to Abraham helping establish God's presence on earth?
3. What do these commentaries teach us about our own relationship with God?

A word
Judaism allows for a wide-range of God concepts within our monotheistic belief, but all of them understand that God depends on humanity as an essential partner in God's plan for creation. It is not God's existence that is in question - the commentaries all note that God ruled over the heavens long before Abraham - but, rather, God's presence on earth, which depends on us living our lives according to the values of the Torah and our tradition. In our world, which is too often marked by terrible hatred and violence, each of us can do our part in repairing the world by being like Abraham and serving as living examples of God's presence on earth.

Prepared by Rabbi Marc Israel, Director, KESHER and UAHC College Education Department.

Genesis 23:1-25:18

Traveling is part of life. We journey from stage to stage and place to place. We may vacation, move from one city to another, or travel between home and college. Packing for an overnight visit or move prompts us to think of the purpose of the journey. What will we need and why? Sometimes it is not clear precisely what we need and so we pack for possibilities. This week, our Torah portion contains such a journey.

To fully appreciate the text, we need a bit of the context of the portion, Chayyei Sarah. Opening with the sad news of Sarah's death at age 127, the portion first details Abraham's diligent efforts to obtain a burial site for Sarah. Abraham negotiates with the Hittites to bury her in the cave of Machpelah. Abraham's focus then turns toward the future and the pressing need to find a wife for Isaac. He commissions his senior servant to return to Abraham's homeland to choose a wife for Isaac from among Abraham's family. The portion concludes with the marriage of Abraham to Keturah, a listing of Abraham's lineage with Sarah, Hagar and Keturah and the death of Abraham at age 175. Chayyei Sarah is one of a number of portions filled with transitions, travels and changes.

Immediately after burying Sarah, Abraham begins to search for a wife for Isaac. He wants to make sure that this new Israelite religion will continue. Realizing that Isaac's wife will also have a role in continuing Judaism, he wants her to come from his family back home rather than from the people immediately around them. However, Abraham is too aged to make the journey. Thus, he commissions his senior servant (identified by Rashi and others as Eliezer) to trek back along the path they trod coming from his homeland to Israel, returning to Aram-Naharayim and the city of Nachor. Abraham provides Eliezer with provisions for the trip as well as gifts for the future daughter-in-law and her family, and he asks Eliezer to swear an oath that he will return with an appropriate wife for Isaac. Thus, Abraham cares for the traveler's physical necessities and confirms that he has a clear understanding of the goal.

Eliezer successfully arrives in Nachor and goes to the well. In Genesis 24 he prays to God for a sign in order to know the identity of Isaac's intended. "If I say to a girl, 'Tip over your jug and let me have a drink,' and she replies, 'Drink, and I will also water your camels,' she will be the one whom You have designated for Your servant Isaac. [If there is such a girl,] I will know that You have granted a favor for my master.'" As soon as he utters the words of his prayer, Rebecca approached, offered water at Eliezer's request and cared for his camels. His prayer was answered, and Eliezer knew that she was the one for Isaac. He goes to Rebecca's family, gains both their permission and her own for the marriage. Rebecca leaves home with her ears ringing with words of blessing from her family. "O, sister! May you grow into thousands of myriads; may your offspring seize the gates of your foes." (Genesis 24:60)

What would you do in Eliezer's place? Would you travel on an arduous journey at the request of your boss? What if the journey was for yourself? What if the mission was a goal and not a trip, would you accept the challenge? How are you accomplishing the goals in your life? Perhaps you are facilitating goals for others? Dreams simultaneously encourage and challenge. It is up to each one of us to have the courage to embrace a dream - to complete a difficult assignment, to go to college, to find a way in the world, to enable others to achieve goals, to take journeys and by doing so, to embolden, enhance and enrich our lives. May we be inspired by Eliezer's dedicated service, by Rebecca's openness to opportunity and by Abraham's foresight to further his dreams as we journey through life.

Prepared by Amy Greenbaum, Executive Director, Hillel Foundation at Miami University

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Chayei Sarah at MyJewishLearning.com.

1. What is the difference between work and creating?
2. Is there another kind of work that God did keep doing?
3. Was the seventh day a day of doing nothing for God?
4. What does it mean for God to bless and sanctify a day?

A Word

A simple reading of the verse tells us that God was busy on the seventh day. It received a blessing and was also sanctified.

The fact that shabbat is blessed is not lost on the close readers of traditional Judaism. A look at the Friday night prayer "Magen Avot" which is said after the silent devotion declares that shabbat is the well-spring of blessing. God was busy making blessings possible and somehow that transcends worldly creation as we know it. We know it only because we can feel it and that somehow it is tied up with non-creative doing.

It is from these words, the last words of the creation story that our world truly begins.

Parshat Vayera begins:

"God appeared to him (Abraham) in the groves of Mamrei, and he was sitting at the door of the tent in the heat of the day. He lifted his eyes and saw, and behold three men were standing near him. He saw them, and ran from the door of the tent to greet them, and he bowed down to the earth. He said, "My master if I have found favor in your eyes please do not bypass your servant." "Let a bit of water be brought and wash your feet, Rest yourselves under the tree." Bereishit (Genesis) Chapter 18, verses 1-4)

Your Torah Navigator

1. When God appears to someone in the Bible, it is always to convey a message. Here we find that God came just to "visit" Abraham. Why? Appreciate the fact that this is the only place in the entire Bible in which God "visits" someone.
2. Why does the Bible go into such detail in describing where this meeting took place?
3. Why is Abraham sitting outside, on a scorching hot day, three days after his circumcision? Why are people walking from Damascus to Alexandria on such a hot day?
4. Who is Abraham addressing when he says, "My Master, if I have found favor in Your eyes, please do not bypass your servant." Is he speaking to God or to the visitors?
5. Abraham seems to have a very strange way of showing hospitality; first, he gives the visitors water to wash their feet and only then does he offer them a drink. Second, he seats them outside, near the tree while he goes inside to his cool, shaded tent! How can we explain this?

Your Midrash Navigator

"In the plains of Mamrei": Why does this occur in Mamrei's place?

"May the name of God be blessed that He does not deprive any creature." Abraham had three good friends, Aneir, Eshkol, and Mamrei. When God told Abraham to circumcise himself, Avraham went to his friends to ask their advice.

He asked Aneir his advice regarding God's command to circumcise himself. Aneir answered that circumcision would disable Avraham and leave him open to attack by the relatives of the kings whom he had just fought.

Abraham then went to Eshkol and asked the same question. Eshkol answered that circumcision brought with it the threat of bleeding to death for an individual in Abraham's physical condition. He then went to Mamrei and asked the same question. Mamrei answered that he should not even consider asking whether or not to follow God's command, for God had all ready performed numerous miracles for him. God took Abraham out of Charan, saved him from the pit of fire, saved him from the kings, and saved every single one of his 248 limbs. Mamrei was in disbelief that Avraham would be concerned about one of his limbs after God had repeatedly saved them all. God was so pleased with Mamrei's answer that He said that He would reveal Himself to Abraham on Mamrei's property, hence "the plains of Mamrei." (Midrash Tanchumah 18:1)

1. Is Abraham, who usually does whatever God tells him to (e.g. leaving his homeland and sacrificing his son) suddenly doubting God?
2. What kind of relationship has Abraham developed with his acquaintances: a real friendship, or perhaps a teacher-student relationship?
3. Abraham had just fought wars, trekked through the desert and had otherwise subjected himself to a multitude of hardships. Why would Aneir and Eshkol suddenly be concerned about Abraham's ability to endure this relatively minor hardship?
4. Why is Abraham not satisfied with the advice of his two friends, Aneir and Eshkol? Why does Abraham follow the advice of his third friend, Mamrei, whose opinion is in the minority?
5. God reveals himself to Abraham on Mamrei's property. How is this Mamrei's reward?

A Word

Abraham talked directly to God while sitting comfortably in his house. However, we see that the moment the guests arrive, he attends to their needs, and seemingly puts aside the service of God.

Is it possible that Abraham is putting his guests before God? It is precisely from here that we learn how to properly worship God. Abraham served God by showing kindness and acceptance to man.

Abraham believed that the only way for him to attain Godliness was through acts of goodness and kindness to his fellow people. We see that he was unconcerned with the identity or status of his guests were and focused on their needs. We see that kindness needs be extended to all regardless of their personal creeds and lifestyles.

The lesson for us is clear. We, as Abraham's descendants, have inherited this trait of kindness and can attain Godliness by showing goodwill to our fellow man. I believe that this is the message that we must all take from this week's parasha.

Shabbat Shalom

Prepared by Rabbi Menachem Evan-Israel, Hillel at SUNY Stony Brook

In our mainstream society, people often find their own partners and parents may be the last, not the first, to know. In ancient times, the task of finding a bride fell to the father and the children may have been the last to know. Such is the case with Abraham and Isaac as recounted in this week's Torah portion - Hayyei Sarah.

The wife that Abraham's servant finds for Isaac must be of good character and the servant even sees to it that she is picked or at least "certified" by God:

And he (Abraham's servant, probably Eliezer) said, "O Lord, God of my master Abraham, grant me good fortune this day, and deal graciously with my master Abraham. Here I stand by the spring as the daughters of the townsmen come out to draw water. Let the maiden to whom I say 'Please lower your jar that I may drink' and who replies 'Drink and I will also water your camels' - let her be the one whom you have decreed for Your servant Isaac. Thereby shall I know that You have dealt graciously with my master." (24:12)

Rebecca is the chosen bride and seems eager to fulfill this role. It must be noted that Rebecca is the very opposite of passive. She takes it upon herself to fulfill the obligations of hospitality far beyond what is required:

When she had let him drink his fill, she said, 'I will also draw for your camels, until they finish drinking.' (24:19)

Rebecca then invites the stranger to lodge with her family. She does not wait to consult her father or her brother:

There is plenty of straw and feed at home, and also room to spend the night. (24:25)

In what seems to be an unusual gesture, she is asked her opinion about the proposed marriage and is the one who makes the final decision to go:

And they said, 'Let us call the girl and ask for her reply.' They called Rebecca and said to her, 'Will you go with this man?' And she said, 'I will.' (24:57-58)

It was on the basis of this story that Jewish law holds that a woman must consent to her marriage. We may think this is silly, perhaps even insulting. Of course a woman should consent to her own marriage! Keep in mind that this in itself was a revolutionary concept. In so many ancient civilizations women had no rights and could simply be given in marriage by their fathers, even against their will.

Our lives consist of interwoven relationships - the healthy ones are egalitarian. We grow to love our families, our friends and our significant others not because we're able to control them, but precisely because we're not.

Written by Richard S. Moline, KOACH Director, The United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Chayei Sarah at MyJewishLearning.com.

1. What hints are there in the story that suggests that Isaac isn't fooled by Jacob?

2. Jacob had already "purchased" the blessing of the first-born son from Esau earlier in the narrative. If so, why did he have to "steal" it now?

3. Do you think that the blessing that Jacob receives here is the one originally intended for Esau, or for him?

4. With what impression of Jacob are you left upon reading this passage?

Various midrashim teach that despite his efforts to pretend he is Esau, no amount of makeup, costuming or hiding under animal skins could mask Jacob's voice.

Your Midrash Navigator

1. Remember, Isaac was blind at this point in his life. What significance does his lack of sight play here?

2. Look again at the blessing Jacob received. If he was such a deceiver, and Isaac knew that it was really Jacob who stood before him (despite the disguise), why would Isaac still impart this blessing?

3. Was Isaac blind to Jacob's true character? Or did Isaac know something deeper about Jacob that we must learn from the blessing?

A Word

No matter how hard Jacob tried, he was not able to free himself from his true inner person, his "real" voice. In the end, the essence of the blessing he received and Esau too, was, "as you leave this tent, there are truths about yourself that you have yet to discover, truths that belong to you alone. Jacob, you cannot be Esau. Esau, you cannot be Jacob. You can only be yourselves, and when you attempt to disguise yourself to the world around you, the only one you fool is yourself."

Jacob's voice, according to our Tradition, was the voice of Torah, the voice of learning, the voice, according to the Sages, that would prevail against the violent hands of Esau. Each of us must use our freedom to discover our own unique destiny, and yet, as Jews we are commanded to learn, to engage ourselves always in the dew of heaven. May our learning lead us to a discovery of our true inner spirits, and may we enjoy the journey to discovery. And may the discovery be a vision of peace, and a prevailing over fear, over force, and over terror.

Prepared by Rabbi Misha Zinkow, Assistant Director, Hillel Foundation at The Ohio State University, Director Covenant Fellowship Program Wexner Jewish Student Center.

(61) Then Rebecca and her maids arose, mounted the camels and followed the man. So the servant took Rebekah and went his way.
(62) Isaac had just come back from the vicinity of Beer-lahai-roi, for he was settled in the region of the Negev.
(63) And Isaac went out walking in the field toward evening and, looking up, he saw camels approaching.
(64) Raising her eyes, Rebekah saw Isaac. She alighted from the camel (65) and said to the servant, "Who is that man walking in the field toward us?" And the servant said, "That is my master." So she took her veil and covered herself.
(66) The servant told Isaac all the things that he had done. (67) Isaac then brought her into the tent of his mother Sarah, and took Rebekah as his wife. Isaac loved her, and thus found comfort after his mother's death.

Your Torah Navigator:

This is the first mention of love between man and woman in the Bible.

1. What are your favorite love scenes from the movies? What are the characteristics they have in common?
2. What characterizes this love scene with Isaac and Rebekah? How does it compare/contrast with those from the movies?
3. Look carefully at the words of the text. What is the Bible telling us about the nature of love, relationships and marriage? Do you agree or disagree? Why?
4. The text uses the same verbal expressions (vayeesa ...vayar/vateesa...vatayre) to describe Isaac's first viewing of Rebekah and Rebekah's first viewing of Isaac. We may learn from this that Isaac and Rebekah were "on the same page" as they begin their relationship.
4. Isaac does four different things in verse 67. Why this excess of verbs in the text? Each action, and their order, must have special meaning. Think about the meaning of each action and the significance of their order in Isaac's courtship of Rebekah. Does anything bother you?

Genesis Rabbah, Chapter 60:15

"'Isaac then brought her into the tent of his mother Sarah' All the days Sarah lived, there was a cloud hovering at the threshold of the tent. When she died, the cloud terminated. And when Rebekah came the same cloud returned. All the days Sarah lived, the doors [in the community] were open to her spirit. When Sarah died, the spirit terminated. And when Rebekah came, the same spirit returned. All the days that Sarah lived, there was a candle burning [in the tent] from erev Shabbat to erev Shabbat. When she died, the candle terminated. And when Rebekah came, the candle returned. When Isaac saw Rebekah that she did like her mother, [then he took her as his wife]."

Your Midrash Navigator:

1. According to the midrash, what is the meaning of "brought her into the tent of his mother Sarah?" What was Isaac looking for in a mate? How do you react to this?
2. Does this solve our textual problem of four different verbs? Why? Why not?
3. Rashi offers a beautiful explanation of Isaac's "comfort after his mother's death." Although he writes specifically about men in relation to their mothers and wives, Rashi intimates that people only find two sources of true comfort and peace in their lives: their parents and their mates. Do you agree/disagree? Rashi is suggesting something very important about the institution of marriage for human psychology.

Prepared by Rabbi Mark Robbins, Jewish Chaplain, Georgetown University

This week's Torah portion is famous for the overwhelmingly beautiful and mysterious command given to Abraham to "go forth" from his birthplace with the promise that God will make him into a great nation so that all the families of the earth will be blessed by him. It sounds so hopeful and inspirational! And yet, it is possible to say: What happens the morning after - when the reality sets in? How does Abraham (called Abram at first) pick up, corral his family and begin the journey? Almost immediately he becomes enmeshed in predicaments and arguments with his wife, Sarai (Sarah), and his nephew, Lot. Let's just say it out loud: Family life is difficult and full of strife.

Abram makes some pretty risky decisions when it comes to his relationship with Sarai. For a prime example of his risky behavior, we note his decision to pass off Sarai to Pharaoh and the Egyptians as his beautiful sister rather than his wife. The emotional complexity involved in such a decision truly brings into question Abram's understanding of the sanctity of their marital relationship.

Abram's journey continues. He argues with Lot over land north of the Negev. He and Lot disagree over the land that they and their shepherds will settle in. The strife is so great that finally Abram informs his nephew that they can no longer live and herd their animals on the same land. It is time to separate. Abram tells him, "If you go north, I will go south; and if you go south, I will go north" (Genesis 13:9). Like so many families, Lot and Abram, though related by blood, were unable to get along with one another, so they went their separate ways.

And even with Lot gone from the family, the marital strife and disappointment continue. Sarai and Abram are unable to have children. In order to conceive and to fulfill the great promise made to them by God, Sarai decides that she will give her handmaid, Hagar, to Abraham as a wife. The language of the text is sensitive to the aspect that this was Sarai's decision and Abraham went along with it. It was not meant to change their relationship. Sarai was still his wife. And now, so was Hagar. At first we see Sarai's behavior as selfless. Though she had internal feelings of failure, she initiated the process whereby they would have offspring. But couldn't she see how difficult and destructive this decision would be to their marriage? How on earth could this be a good thing?

Rashi comments that the moment that Hagar conceives, she sees Sarai in a new, contemptuous light. Hagar assumes that Sarai must not be the righteous person that everyone else thinks she is. Otherwise Sarai would not have these problems conceiving. Just think of the emotional dynamics that had to have been exposed in this situation. We readers witness the bitter emotions that pour out from Sarai because of Hagar's accusations about Sarai's character. It is heartbreaking.

By offering her handmaid to Abram as a surrogate, Sarai did something that, on the face of it, was praiseworthy. But the situation snowballed beyond her ability to cope, and Sarai did not anticipate the result: the arrogance of Hagar. She could not cope with admission of failure that this represented, which led to a terribly unfortunate outcome - strife between husband and wife, the rejection of Hagar and the rebuff of their offspring, Ishmael.

Torah teaches us that seemingly straightforward situations are not always what they seem to be. They are fraught with emotions. Abram and Sarai meant well. It is hard for us to fault them, but we do. In each of these situations, they could not handle what they initiated. The consequences were much more complicated than they had intended.

Like Sarai and Abram, we, too, make well-intentioned mistakes, sometimes misusing our own family members, taking our personal relationships for granted or misunderstanding just how difficult a situation may become as a result of our actions. May we take comfort in knowing that, though they made mistakes, Abram and Sarai became Abraham (a father of a multitude of nations) and Sarah (princess) and received God's blessings. May we too receive God's blessings as we go on our own life's journeys, even when we make mistakes.

Prepared by Rabbi Andrea Steinberger, Hillel at the University of Wisconsin, Madison.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Lech Lecha at MyJewishLearning.com.

The stories of our "first family," beginning with Abraham and Sarah and continuing throughout the Torah, are a critical piece of the master narrative of the Jewish people. The values and lessons that this family's adventures impart as are inseparable from a modern Jew's identity as the anecdotes that our own parents and grandparents tell from their more recent memory. The motifs of the ancient and modern Jewish story of people-building are the same… exile, wandering, internal struggles, sibling rivalries and vigilance against oppression. Seeing our distant forebears as part of our own families helps us better to understand their lives, as complex as they were, and brings their memories to life.

One such story from Parashat Toldot is Isaac's search for a place to settle with his family. Genesis 26:18-22 reads:

18 Isaac dug anew the wells which had been dug in the days of his father Abraham and which the Philistines had stopped up after Abraham's death; and he gave them the same names that his father had given them.
19 But when Isaac's servants, digging in the wadi, found there a well of spring water,
20 the herdsmen of Gerar quarreled with Isaac's herdsmen, saying, "The water is ours." He named that well Esek (quarrel), because they contended with him.
21 And when they dug another well, they disputed over that one also; so he named it Sitnah (strife).
22 He moved from there and dug yet another well, and they did not quarrel over it; so he called it Rehoboth, saying, "Now at last the Lord has granted us ample space to increase in the land."

Isaac moved from place to place until he found a place to settle. On his journey he looked for areas that his father had once called home, honoring Abraham and following his lead. Like Isaac, we all look for ways to find places that nourish our bodies, minds and spirits. Sometimes we go where our parents found what they were seeking, sometimes we do not. Like Isaac, we often confront obstacles that cannot be avoided. Tackling those challenges without giving up the search is how we each find what sustains us, a place to call home, even if only temporarily.

Isaac's quest was for water, ours is for something else. But the college experience can mirror that ancient pursuit for life-giving wells. And so much can get in the way of a college student's pursuit of fulfillment: the anticipation and stress of choosing a school and a major, the delicate dance involved in getting to know new suite-mates, the drama of the shift from dependence to independence. At times the distractions seem too much to bear. We can take our lead from Isaac by looking for answers and comfort where others have found them. Some call it "not reinventing the wheel," others think of it as fitting into existing frameworks. However you describe it, the search is the same.

Finding a place to call home in college means being willing to adapt, honoring what others have built for us, and working hard to dig new wells that can sustain us along our ways.

Written by David Komerofsky, executive director of Texas Hillel.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Toledot at MyJewishLearning.com.

What do Isaac, Jacob, Joseph and Moses have in common? All of them were not the first born, they were all the under-dog. As such they can serve as powerful role models for us as people and as Jews about overcoming hardship. All of these leaders of our people had to struggle to overcome challenges. Isaac, the father figure in this week's Torah portion of Toldot (meaning offspring, or generations), was taunted, or perhaps even molested, by his older half brother Yishmael. Like the two identical goats used as part of the ancient rituals on Yom Kippur, Yishmael was banished to the desert and Isaac was brought up on the altar. We read this week about Jacob who struggles against his twin brother from before they are even born! He obtains the blessing of the first born with disguise and trickery. He later wrestles with an angel and limps for the rest of his life

Joseph, Jacob's son, is almost killed by his brothers who are jealous of his colorful coat and his prophetic dreams. Moses, the teacher of our people, grows up in a palace not really his own, lives as an outlaw in a strange land, and struggles with his own speech difficulties even as he struggles against Pharaoh. From these many stories a theme emerges that we see clearly in this week's reading: from difficulty can emerge strength. Without challenge we often do not grow. A gardener cuts branches from a fruit tree not to harm the wood, but to prune it to encourage new growth. Abraham, father of our people, leaves what is familiar to truly go to himself and become who he is meant to be.

Jacob, born with his hand on the heel of his brother and named "he will heel" is destined to be the next leader of his people. His struggles with his brother, he struggles with his father-in-law, and he struggles with the divine. He summarizes his life to Pharaoh when he is an old man by saying " The days of my life have been few and hard..." [B'reishit 47:9] and yet it is this difficult life that produces a clearly articulated spiritual path. Jacob is the both the heel and also Yisrael, the Prince of G-d, the Interfacer with G-d. When Jacob overcomes his physical and emotional hardships, he encounters the spiritual realm. "G-d is truly in this place, but I did not know it. How awesome is this place! This is the house of G-d and this is the gate to heaven" [B'reishit 28:17]. This same path is open to each of us; we can see conflict and run and hide, or we can embrace the struggle and become a stronger leader in the process. We can only see the physical world of the senses, or we can perceive a higher reality of the heart and soul.

Your Torah Navigator
1. Rebecca is sterile and Isaac prays on her behalf. She becomes pregnant. What is the power of praying for someone else? [B'reishit 25:21].
2. When Rebecca's pregnancy becomes difficult she "goes and seeks G-d (or literally, gets a drash, an explanation from G-d). What does this mean? Can people still directly inquire of G-d? [B'reishit 25:22]
3. Jacob is named "he will heel" and Esau is named "made" or "completed. What do these names teach us about their distinct personalities? [B'reishit 25:25-26].

A Word
A prayer for someone else is more likely to be a selfless prayer. To pray for our own achievements is less of a prayer and more of a statement of desire. To pray to G-d for someone else's well being is to elevate the needs of another. We are taught that the proof that someone really loves G-d is found in the way they treat and think of others. Rashi teaches us that Rebecca found her insight about her pregnancy at Shem's Beit Midrash, the Yeshiva of the Son of Noah. Today we find knowledge and inspiration in the meditations of our heart and through the collected revelations of our people and its teachers. Jacob was named heel, but becomes a Prince or a Seer of G-d. Esau was born with a full body of hair like a grown man, but spiritually and intellectually never became a fully developed leader. At times we must put the good of others over our own, we should realize that the answer can come within or from outside help, and understand that our true potentials are not to be judged on face value alone.

Prepared by Rabbi Shalom Bochner, executive director, Santa Cruz Hillel Foundation.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Toledot at MyJewishLearning.com.

Q: What do you get when you cross Martin Luther King and Led Zeppelin?

A: The dream of a stairway to heaven or....this weeks Parsha.

Parshat Vayeytze begins:

"And Jacob went out from Beer Sheva and went toward Haran. And he lighted upon the place, and stayed there all night, because the sun was set. And he took of the stones of the place and put it under his head and lay down in that place to sleep. And he dreamed, and behold a ladder set up on the earth and the top of it reached to heaven and behold the angels of God ascending and descending on it. And behold the Lord stood beside him and said: 'I am the Lord, the God of Abraham your father, and the God of Isaac. The land on which you lie to you will I give it, and to your descendants. And your descendents shall be as the dust of the earth, and you shall spread abroad to the west and to the east and to the north and to the south. And through you and your descendents shall all the families of the earth be blessed. And behold, I am with you, and will keep you wherever you go and I will not leave you, until I have done all that I have spoken of to you.' And Jacob woke up out of his sleep and said: 'Surely the Lord is in this place and I did not know it.' And he was afraid and said, 'How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God and this is the gate of heaven.'"

The story of Jacob's dream has inspired countless paintings and poems over the millennia. What is it about this passage which has made it so personal for so many throughout the ages? Is it the dream itself (something which every person does)? Or perhaps it is the angels (which provide a source of comfort)? Is it the image of God as an imminent force so near to us and watching over us wherever we may be? Or is it the promise of redemption and blessing for all humankind?

Parsha Navigator

1: "He lay down in that place to sleep. And he dreamed" Is there a difference between a dream (while one is asleep) as Jacob had, and a vision (while one is awake) as did Abraham and Isaac?
2: "Behold a ladder set up on the earth and the top of it reached to heaven and behold the angels of God ascending and descending on it." What is the significance of a ladder? After all if angels are celestial beings did they really need a ladder to get from heaven to earth (the whole wings thing we can leave for another time)?
Does the statement that it is set up on the earth and its top reach to heaven imply that there is a direct connection between heaven and earth? If so, where or what is it?
3: "And through you and your descendents shall all the families of the earth be blessed." How have the nations of the world been blessed through the descendents of Jacob? Are they still?
4: "And Jacob woke up out of his sleep and said, 'Surely the Lord is in this place and I did not know it.'" Is there any place where God is not?

Midrash Navigator

Bereshit Rabba 68:11
1: "And he dreamed" - Rabbi Abbahu said, "Dreams have no influence whatsoever." "Bar Kappara taught, "No dream is without its interpretation."

What is the difference between these statements? Can a dream have no influence on a person yet still have significance worth interpretation?

2: "The Rabbis related it to Sinai." - The ladder symbolizes Mt. Sinai. The angels symbolize Moses and Aaron. "And behold the Lord stood beside him" symbolizes that God came down on Sinai.

Is there anything beyond an allegory to connect Jacob's dream to the Revelation at Sinai?

According to the tradition, if two words share the same gematria (numerical equivalent) then there is a deeper connection between them. The connection the rabbis show is that the ladder (sulam) and Sinai each have the gematria of 130. Sinai is the ladder that connects the physical world and the spiritual world.

A Word

Every human being has dreams. Jacob had a dream and he saw the mountaintop: Sinai! Rabbi Shlomo Riskin once wrote, "The fact of the matter is that a person can dream when he's asleep and can dream when he's awake. But only the dreams that one dreams when he/she is awake can become transformed into the visions which change reality."

May each of us wake from our sleep and see, like Jacob, that "Surely the Lord is in this (and every) place and we did not know it." If we take our dreams and transform them into visions, and turn our visions into reality, then we will fulfill the promise of God to our father Jacob, "Through you and your descendents shall all the families of the earth be blessed."

Shabbat Shalom

Prepared by Rabbi Ed Rosenthal, Atlanta YAD Campus Rabbi at Emory University

Genesis 11:1 - the first verse of one of the best known stories in Biblical literature. The Tower of Babel: "va'yi'hee khol ha'aretz safah echat u'dvarim achadim - Everyone on earth had the same language and the same words."

The Text repeats Itself here: safah echat (the same language) and d'varim achadim(the same words) are two different ways of saying virtually the same thing.

Rashi suggests an alternative reading of d'varim achadim. He emends the Text to read d'varim CHAdim which means sharp words. In Rashi's translation, "Everyone on earth had the same language and sharp words."

What exactly are sharp words? They are words that stab other people. They are words that wound another person's reputation.

We're so used to hearing sharp words that our sense of outrage has become dull. We crave the "juicy details." We want to know the "dirt." We are addicted to la'shon ha'rah. "You wouldn't believe that so-and-so did such-and-such."

Sharp words are not necessarily false, but they are words used as weapons to slice someone else
apart.

The Bible helps us understand what is meant by sharp words. The Hebrew chad - sharp - is often used in reference to a sword or arrow. The idea is captured in Psalm 57, Verse 5: "As for me, I lie down among man-eating lions whose teeth are spears and arrows and whose tongue is a sharp sword."

The words spoken by those who built the Tower of Babel were like swords wielding verbal stabs of la'shon ha'rah - stabbing others in the back.

In fact, Genesis Rabbah quotes the 59th Psalm to explain that those who built the Tower were punished "because of their sinful mouths, [and] the words on their lips."

The Tower could have been a good thing. The model of cooperation and partnership. People working together in harmony. But the builders of the Tower were a sharp-tongued people. And that was their sin. They used their common language to cut each other down. That's what made G-d so angry. And that's why G-d punished them by giving them different languages. They could no longer understand each other. Their words (once imbued with meaning) were now reduced to "babble."

Better this than la'shon ha'rah. When words are used to defame or belittle - for "hate-speak" or "rumor-speak" - better that language should be meaningless "babble."

The Text tells us that G-d ?balal sifat? - that G-d confused the people's speech. Why is balal used here - the only time in the entire Tanakh that this verb is used in reference to language? Why didn't G-d "restrain" their language or "silence" the people?

G-d confused the people's speech because the people themselves were confused about the purpose of speech. They were mixed up. They thought that words were intended to hurt.

The word ?safah? - language - is repeated five times in the nine short verses of the Text. Over and over again, the Text drives home its point about language. "Careful," It says, "language is a gift; it is a blessing. Do not use it frivolously or maliciously." "Use language to bring people together - to build community - to build people up."

Somewhere in ancient Babylonia there's a half-finished Tower standing uselessly - a monument reminding us that la'shon ha'rah halts progress and dissolves communal harmony.

Each one of us has been hurt by la'shon ha'rah. Each one of us has also used la'shon ha'rah to cut someone else down. But the damage done by la'shon ha'rah is irreparable. Once we've shot the arrow or the bullet, we can't go back and retrieve it. Once those harmful words are vocalized, they can't be taken back. They cut through the air set to strike someone's reputation - to wound someone's good name.

That is why our Tradition cautions us against saying anything negative about another person, even if what we're saying is true. The Talmud teaches that destroying someone's good name is just like committing murder.

There's a famous Hasidic tale about la'shon ha'rah. A man went through the community slandering his Rabbi. Feeling suddenly remorseful, he begged the Rabbi for forgiveness. "What can I do to make amends," he said. The Rabbi told him to take a feather pillow - cut it open - scatter the feathers to the wind - and then return to see him the next day. The man did as he was told. He came back to see the Rabbi and said, "Rabbi, am I forgiven now?" "No," said the Rabbi. "Now you must go and gather all the feathers." "That's impossible," said the man. "Of course it is. And though you may regret what you have done, it is as impossible to repair the damage caused by your words as it is to recover the scattered feathers."

It's not easy to give up la'shon ha'rah, but we have to try. Let's try to check ourselves each time we're about to say something negative about someone else. Let's try to speak about others as we would want them to speak about us. We must remind ourselves of the dual capacity of words both to hurt and to comfort - to build up and to cut down.

May we use language not to destroy or to hurt - not to build Towers of Babel - but to build real community and trust. To build people up and to speak about them with kindness.

Elohai nitzur li'shoni mai'rah u'sifatie mi'daber mir'mah - O G-d, guard my tongue from evil and my lips from deceit.

Prepared by David Kessel, Field Services Associate

A short synopsis of the Parsha: While leaving Haran, Jacob rests for a night. In his dream he sees angels ascending and descending a ladder. God comes to Jacob and repeats the blessing he gave to Abraham and Isaac and promises to protect him and bring him back to Canaan. Jacob vows that the Lord will be his God if God fulfills his promise.

Jacob arrives in Haran and is taken in by his Uncle Lavan who has 2 daughters, Leah and her younger sister Rachel. Jacob agrees to work for 7 years in order to marry Rachel. Lavan deceives Jacob on the wedding night and substitutes Leah for Rachel. Afterwards, Jacob promises to work another 7 years in order to marry his beloved Rachel. Leah gives birth to 6 sons (Reuven, Shimon, Levi, Yehuda, Yissachar, Zevulun) and a daughter (Dina) ; Bilhah, Rachel's maidservant gives birth to 2 sons (Dan and Naphtali). Leah's handmaiden Zilpah gives birth to 2 sons (Gad and Asher) and finally Rachel gives birth to Joseph.

Jacob then asks Lavan to allow him to return to his home in Canaan. They agree that as his wages for 20 years of service, Jacob will build himself a flock from Lavan's herds. Jacob amasses a huge flock (by magic?) and then, unbeknownst to Lavan, Jacob and his household flee. Prior to leaving, Rachel steals her father's idols. Lavan purses Jacob but is warned in a dream to take revenge upon Jacob. Jacob then promises Lavan that whoever stole his idols will not remain alive, but the idols are never found. The Parsha ends with Lavan and Jacob sealing a pact to end all hostilities.

So much to think about! This Parsha is rich in narrative, and there are so many midrashim and interpretations of the story. I have chosen to zero in on the leaving, the "vayeytze" beginning piece of the portion.

I suppose because the notion of leaving one's home and going on a journey is one that we, as Hillel professionals, come in contact with in our student work every day and because it is one that I feel personally connected to. Jacob embarks on a journey away from his parents, at their bidding, and in the course of 20 years in Haran, he marries 4 women and amasses a huge fortune. This is a journey quite different from his grandfather's originating journey, the "lech lecha" wandering to a place yet to be shown, the place of promise and destiny. Jacob does not simply go, he "leaves" He relinquishes what he has achieved and known for two generations and goes to a known and named destination.

The word "Vayeytze" does not mean fleeing going or running, but leaving. For the purpose of the narrative, it would have been sufficient to say that Jacob just went to Haran. Rashi asks why it specifically says that he departed from Beer Sheva. He explains:" A righteous person's departure from a place leaves a void. As long as he lives in the city, he constitutes its glory, its splendor and its beauty; when he departs, its glory, its splendor and its beauty depart with him." There is new awareness of the greatness of a person precisely when his physical presence is removed.

Rashi speaks of a void left behind as Jacob begins his journey. But, perhaps, the void is within Jacob as well. In order for Jacob to separate from his family, find a mate and create a life for himself, he needs to go on this journey, both physically and emotionally. A certain innocence is abandoned. Midrash writes that for 14 years prior to the journey Jacob "buries" himself in study in the house of Shem and Ever- in this study house he constructs his world of mind, strength and spirit. Then comes the moment of going out into the external word, of leaving his parents' home and creating the space to find his place.

As Jacob leaves Haran, he has not yet grasped the magnitude of his exile, not realizing that he would never see his mother and father again. He is completely alone, banished from his homeland, despised by his brother and shamed by his dying father. Unlike Abraham, his grandfather, he is not traveling, in any simple sense, towards the land of promise. Abraham begins his journey in response to God's word.

Jacob begins with God's silence. Without God's express guidance Jacob has to go away and find himself. Unlike Isaac, Jacob will have no servant to bridge the gap for him and him home a wife. As the sun sets during his journey Jacob is exhausted, both physically ad emotionally and he yearns for a place to rest. He finds a round stone and prays for sleep. Rashi quotes a midrash "the sun set for him suddenly, earlier than usual, so that he would indeed spend the night there" God wants Jacob to sleep.

Traditionally the place is identified with Mount Moriah, the place where Jacob's father was brought to be sacrificed. But, that "certain place' can also be a metaphoric reference to God, as it is during Jacob's sleep that he comes in contact with God.

Jacob's ladder is the first explicitly recorded dream in the Bible. There are many interpretations about the ladder and the angels. Perhaps the ladder represents Jacob's desire for upward transcendence, for deliverance from his earthly conflicts. Significantly, the angels are first going up and then coming down. Perhaps they are Jacob's messengers to God, expressing his hope to inherent the covenant and imploring comfort from the pain of his current crisis. In his moment of abject dejection and loneliness, Jacob cries out for help. God offers Jacob a ladder, a bridge connecting heaven and earth.

Jacob may have a rough passage ahead of him , but now he knows for the first time that he will no be alone, that he is indeed chosen and wanted. Jacob, though, is not yet ready to fully embrace his spiritual heritage and so answers God conditionally. The best he can do is admit the possibility that God will deliver on his promise. If God protects him, clothes him and feeds him, only then will Jacob accept him as his God. Yet, the hope and solace that Jacob receives during the darkness of this night will sustain him through many years of lonely exile.

On another level, the ladder maybe symbolizes Jacob's desire to relinquish his boyhood and take control of his adulthood. While he is currently at the bottom rung of the ladder, merely beginning his ascent into manhood, Jacob is reaching out to achieve the spiritual heights achieved by the men and women who have proceeded him in his family. Jacob's ladder expresses all of his yearnings for a spiritual identity that transcend earthly distress and harmonizes different desires. Jacob has taught me that we mustn't give up hope or give into despair.

When he reaches a seeming dead end in his life, he finds a way to "go". He might have a destination, but he is clueless about what the journey will entail. He tries to connect himself to a set of moral and spiritual values that are larger than himself and that transcend the mundane conflicts of his day to day existence. He tries to impose meaningful priorities for himself. Like all of us, he is often besieged by self doubt and anxiety about the future. Yet, Jacob is constantly striving to reach beyond the confines of his daily life to try and endow it with greater meaning.

As we all face difficult passages throughout our lives, it behooves us to look toward Jacob who reaches out for help and looks inward for some direction. Ladders are constantly being lowered into our lives when we have almost despaired of finding a way out. Sometimes in the form of a teacher, friend or mentor and other times the ladders are personal and professional opportunities. But it falls upon us to take the first steps onto the ladder at whatever point of entry is fitting.

Shabbat Shalom!

Prepared by Esther Abramowitz, Hebrew University.

"God created" (Gen. 1:1) An unbeliever came to Rabbi Akiva and asked, "Who made the world?". Rabbi Akiva replied, "The Holy Blessed One". The unbeliever said, "Prove it to me." Rabbi Akiva said, "Come to me tomorrow". When the unbeliever returned, Rabbi Akiva asked, "What is that you are wearing?" "A garment", the unbeliever replied. "Who made it?" Rabbi Akiva asked. "A weaver", said the unbeliever. "Prove it to me," said Rabbi Akiva. "What do you mean," said the unbeliever, "how can I prove it to you? Here is the garment, how can you not know that a weaver made it?" Rabbi Akiva said, "And here is the world; how can you not know that the Holy Blessed One made it?" After the unbeliever had left, Rabbi Akiva's disciples asked him, "But what is the proof?" He said, "Even as a house proclaims its builder,a garment its weaver or a door its carpenter, so does the world proclaim the Holy Blessed One Who created it. --Midrash Temurah

This midrash illustrates the fundamental human problem between faith and certainty. We want to believe, but we also want to be able to know "for sure".

When we read the story of the creation of the world, many questions come to mind. What prompted creation? What preceded creation? Tradition tells us that these are not questions that should be explored in public. "Why was the world created with the letter bet?", asks Midrash Bereshit Rabbah, "Just as the bet is closed at the top and at the sides, so you may not investigate what is below, what is above, and what is before; only what is in front."

Judaism is a pragmatic way of life. It concerns itself with how we conduct ourselves in this life, almost to the exclusion of speculating upon life in the world to come. Judaism's precepts are in the here and now, performing mitzvot, trying to understand what God wants of us, trying to make the world a better place. Rashi's very first comment upon the text of the Torah is that Rabbi Isaac said that the Torah, which is the book of the law of Israel, should have begun with, "This month shall be unto you the first of months" (Ex.12:1), which is the first commandment given to Israel. But that is not where the Torah begins. Instead, it begins with the account of Creation, robed in mystery, provoking questions that could easily lead us to doubts or heresy. Judaism also allows for the mysteries of the universe. We live in the balance of knowing what is expected of us in this life, and not knowing what came before, or what will come after. The first gives us direction, and the second gives us awe. But how does it solve our question? How can we know "for sure"?

Rabbi Akiva gives us the answer. The proof is in creation itself. We cannot see God, but the world around us is filled with reflections of God--human beings, created in the divine image. We can see God reflected in the eyes of a person who loves us or in the actions of a person who helps us, in a kind gesture, or an expression of comfort. And we can be a reflection of God in our actions, in the way we treat our loved ones, our employees, our students, or even strangers on the street. Rabbi Joshua ben Levi said: "A procession of angels pass before each person, and the heralds go before them, saying, 'Make way for the image of God!'. (Deut.Rabbah, 4:4) May we be able to see those angels as we look at each human being with whom we come into contact, and may they remind us of Who created the world.

Prepared by Rabbi Leslie Bergson, Hillel at the Claremont Colleges.

As the Torah portion Noach opens, God declares that humanity has become so corrupt that God has no choice but to wipe out the entire population and begin anew. Only Noah, his wife, his sons and his daughters-in-law are to be spared. Noah is commanded to gather representatives of each species of animals and build an enormous ark. Once Noah, his family and the animals are enclosed safely in the ark, there is a great flood. They do not emerge until one full year later, and indeed, they find that all of humanity has been wiped out. The parsha concludes with the story of the Tower of Babel, in which God confounds humanity's language as a punishment for their foolish attempt to reach the heavens.

In the Torah's account of the flood, nothing is revealed about what occurs within the ark while the torrential waters pour down upon the earth. It seems reasonable to ask what it was like for Noah and his family during the year they were inside the ark. How did they spend their time? Were they joyous, overwhelmed by gratitude for having been spared? Or was it a time of mourning for all that was destroyed as they realized their lives would never be the same?

The Midrash provides the details left out of the Torah's account and describes the scene inside the ark as most difficult. Noah and his sons, and presumably his wife and daughters-in-law, never got a good night's sleep, for they were occupied day and night caring for the animals, feeding each species the diet it was accustomed to eating on its usual schedule. As the waters poured down from the sky, the ark shook violently and the animals roared and screamed. Noah and his family were afraid and prayed for their lives. In the end, Noah is so terrified that he only emerges from the ark when God orders him to do so and, when he does, he is a broken man, limping and spitting up blood from injuries sustained during his difficult journey.

I appreciate the Midrash's account because it cautions us from thinking that Noah simply had it easy. Yes, his life was spared, but in return he also had to endure an extraordinarily difficult year before he could participate in the new world. When life is at its toughest and we have entered an especially dark place, we can easily fantasize about leaving everything behind and starting over. The parsha teaches us that while new beginnings are possible, transitions themselves can be enormous challenges. I imagine that once Noah emerged from the ark and had his first taste of beginning life anew, he indeed was filled with gratitude for this great blessing. Surely, he came to feel that his year of suffering in the ark was small compared to the great opportunity for a second chance at life, but he may not have been so sure during the journey.

May each of us have the wisdom to know that starting over is never without its own challenges. May we learn to brave the rough waters, and may we embrace our return to dry land with gratitude and joy.

Prepared by Rabbi Amber Powers, Dean of Admissions and Recruitment, Reconstructionist Rabbinical College.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Noach at MyJewishLearning.com.

1. Aleh toldot Yitchak. This is how the parsha begins: This is Isaac's story! This is who Isaac is! And so we expect that Isaac will be the main character or hero of the narrative that follows. One brief chapter is devoted to his adult years and the only other times we learn about him are during his younger years and his old age. What then is Isaac's story? Who is he?

2. In the Torah readings up until this week we know Isaac as the son of his distinguished and well-established father Abraham- that is, one of the two sons of Abraham. How does Isaac whose life story shares so many common characteristics with Abraham ( a barren wife, two sons who have little in common, a famine story, a treaty with a neighboring chieftain a promise from God) differentiate himself from his father? How does he become his "own man"?

3. How do we now understand the personality and influence of Isaac as one of the patriarchs? We have only a few chapters devoted to his story compared to the stories of Abraham and eventually Jacob, his son. Is Isaac the "sandwich generation" - the family member surrounded on both sides by a notable father and a famous son? Abram becomes Abraham and Jacob becomes Israel. Isaac is the patriarch whose name is not changed.

4. There are four main players in the drama: Isaac and Rebecca, Esau and Jacob. Once again in Genesis we have two brothers and a rivalry- Cain and Abel, Isaac and Ishmael and now Esau and Jacob." Two nations are in your womb. Two peoples apart while still in your body. One people shall be mightier than the other, and the older shall serve the younger."

5. The brothers are so different one from another - different physically and different in temperament. How do the names given to them at birth foreshadow what comes next? Esau is the out-of-doors man and Jacob is described as a Mother's boy, a veritable "couch potato". Esau has a "taste for game" and Isaac favors him..."but Rebecca loved Jacob".

6. The "birthright" was to go to the older and in Canaan the first-born was to receive a double portion of the inheritance. Jacob merges as the prominent son: this is a theme that we see again and again. Joseph, Ephraim, Moses and David were not first borns! How might one's spiritual status ( the blessing) be significantly different from one's legal status?

7. Isaac prospers "... he reaped a hundredfold...the Lord blessed him and the man grew richer and richer." The wells that his father's servants had dug were stopped up by the Philistines. Why? What happened was a serious violation of property rights. Then Isaac is warned: "Go away from us, for you have become far too big for us". Isaac in time digs new wells but not without encounters with the Lord and with his neighbors. What is the significance of Isaac digging his own wells? What significance is there to the place names - Rehoboth and Beersheba?

8. Isaac who was almost sacrificed by his own father is best known for his own role as a father. This is how we remember him. What is truly unique about his story is the blessing of his sons.

9. Isaac calls Esau. It is Esau who responds "Heneini: Here I am!" Does one expect that response from Esau - Heneini? Rebecca works to obtain it for Jacob. "The voice is the voice of Jacob but the hands are the hands of Esau." Isaac may be old and blind: he is not incompetent!

10."May the Lord give you of the dew of heaven and the fat of the earth Abundance of new grain and wine " (From the blessing to Jacob)

...Your abode shall enjoy the fat of the earth and the dew of the heaven above... (From the blessing to Esau)

Happy Thanksgiving! Shabbat Shalom!

Prepared by Dr. Shulamith Reich Elster, Hillel of Greater Washington.

Everyone knows the saying "the grass is always greener on the other side." Growing up, this was actually true in my house because my neighbors had a lawn service every week and our grass only got watered when we got around to it. I don't think my childhood suffered for lack of oxygen, though.

It could be that greener grass only matters for Home and Garden magazine or the nutritional well-being of cows, but wearing green-colored glasses presents its own set of challenges and we can see some of these from our long-lost relative Lot.

We don't know too much about Lot, though he clearly had a troubled childhood. When his family wasn't being oppressed by Nimrod the evil king, they were struggling with whether or not they were pagans or monotheists, idol-worshippers or idol-smashers. Plus, his father died (perhaps in a fiery furnace) when he was a young boy and he was entrusted to the care of his uncle (Avram) who moved the family out of urban Mesopotamia to backwater Charan and finally in desert convoy to Canaan.

During all of these formative years, the Torah tells us almost nothing of Lot other than that he accompanied Uncle Avram. Together they wander the land of Israel (Canaan) and were forced by famine to flee to Egypt, where they have many adventures. It is only when they return from Egypt to Canaan that Lot is described as an independent personality and it is not a salutatory one:

"And Avram went up (ed. made aliyah) from Egypt, he and his wife and all that he had and Lot with him to the Negev. And Avram was very heavy with stuff; silver and gold. And he went on his way from the Negev until Beit El, until the place where had originally pitched his tent, between Beit El and Ai; to the place of the altar he had made there earlier. And Avram called out (i.e., prayed) with the name of God. And also Lot - who went with Avram - had sheep and bulls and tents. And the land could not bear their co-habitation, for their property was vast and they could not live together. So there was an ongoing argument between the shepherds of Avram's property and the shepherds of Lot's property; and the Canaanites and Perizzites dwelt in the land at that time."
Genesis 13:1-7

Apparently, Lot had become accustomed to a wealthier lifestyle and needed his creature comforts. Plus, it seems that he was seeking independence from his uncle.

Avram recognizes that he and his nephew have different personalities and that they need their space. So he suggests to Lot that they each take responsibility for a different part of the land of Israel. There's no room right there in Beit El (because of the Caaanites and Perizzites) but a little north or south, there are still vast stretches of pasture and land that will eventually be developed into condos (or something like that). So Avraham says: If you go a little north, I'll go a little south. If you go a little south, I'll go a little north. You choose. This is what happens:

"And Lot lifted up his eyes and saw the whole Jordan plain, for it was amply irrigated (before God destroyed Sodom and 'Amora) -- like the garden of God, like the land of Egypt - leading up to Tzo'ar. And Lot chose the whole Jordan plain and Lot traveled east and they separated from one another." Genesis 13: 10-11

This wasn't one of the choices!!!

Avram suggested that he go north or south, not east. Avram suggested that they both stay in the biblical land of Israel, not that Lot go to the Jordan valley. Avram suggested that they put a little space between each other, not that they cut off all contact. Instead , Lot was wowed by the land that looked like the Garden of Eden and he couldn't wait to abandon his backwater uncle for the lights of the big city.

I think there are two important lessons to learn from Lot's eagerness to get away, both of them lessons in what not to do:

1) Blood is thicker than water (as my grandmother says)
Lot decided to live in Sodom (which was after all, filled with Sodomites) rather than stay with his clan. It's not that he liked the Sodom people better, but he just didn't like his people. There is a self-hating reference here - haven't you ever heard Jewish people say "It's so much easier to work with non-Jews"? We may be a stiff-necked people, but it's important that we find it in our hearts to love each other. I think it makes all the difference.

Also, living in a studio apartment in Manhattan where nobody cares about you (for example) is corrosive to the soul. Maybe other places are less cool and our family embarrasses us (not mine of course, since they're all reading this d'var torah), but let's be honest, it's better to be loved than to be cool.

2) Look for the green grass on this side
Lot was so busy being awed by the glamour and glitter of the other side of the Jordan that he didn't even bother to look left or right at his own land. It's true that Western culture is seductive and interesting, bright and shiny, but let us not forget to look to our own heritage.

To the right, we have a beautiful Torah, full of mysteries and God-intoxicated wisdom. To the left, we have a beautiful heritage of customs, music, art and literature. In a world where even non-Jewish movie stars and politicians have come to realize (albeit in an often distorted way) that our Jewish tradition is powerful and unique, too many Jews think Judaism is still Hebrew school and a Yiddish accent.

Just witness what happens to Sodom - it is given its true inner expression by God in next week's parshah - it is sulfur, fire and brimstone, anathema to all life, the lowest spot on the planet. But a little bit further west is our beautiful Holy Land with its beautiful Jews walking the ancient pathways with Torahs in their hands.

We can learn a lot from Lot. As opposed to that ingrate Lot, we must say "Ashreinu, ma tov chelkeinu!" How happy are we with what God has given us! "uma na'im goraleinu!", how beautiful is our destiny, "uma yafa yerushateinu!" and how lovely is our heritage.

Written by Rabbi Avi Heller, Director of Jewish Education, Boston University Hillel

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Lech Lecha at MyJewishLearning.com.

Some say that Jews and Muslims, or Israelis and Palestinians, can trace the roots of their conflict to these brothers, Isaac and Ishmael. In last week's parsha, we learned how Ishmael was banished and went down to Egypt. Then, after the Akeidah, Isaac is separated from his father. They do not return together from the mountain. Isaac and Ishmael had played together for some amount of time in their father's household. In fact, Ishmael being "mitzachayk" - grammatically, "Isaacing" - caused Sarah to demand his banishment. Did these brothers really carry hatred for each other, or did they carry some other burdens of their famous first family?

Torah Evidence of the Isaac-Ishmael Connection
A. Isaac prepares to greet Rebekah: Genesis 24:62
"Isaac had just come back from the vicinity of Beer-lahai-roi, for he was settled in the region of the Negev."
B. Isaac and Ishmael are together at Abraham's funeral: Genesis 25:9-11
"His sons Isaac and Ishmael buried him in the cave of Machpelah, in the field of Ephron son of Zohar the Hittite, facing Mamre, the field that Abraham had bought from the Hittites; there Abraham was buried, and Sarah his wife. After the death of Abraham, G-d blessed his son Isaac. And Isaac settled near Beer-lahai-roi."

Your Torah Navigator
1. Beer-lahai-roi is the name of the well where Hagar, Ishamel's mother, received the news of his name and his impending birth. It is a place associated exclusively with Ishmael. The only other times it is mentioned are these references to Isaac coming from it and going towards it. Why is Isaac so interested in this Ishmael space?
2. Ishmael was supposedly living in Egypt. How did he find out that his father, Abraham, had died, and how did he know where to go for the funeral?
3. Abraham was 175 when he died. That would make Isaac 75 and Ishmael 88. Some Midrashim imagine Isaac bringing his sons, Jacob and Esau, themselves already teenagers, to the funeral. How might they react on meeting Uncle Ishmael for the first time, and how would they mourn Grandpa Abe, who, at least according to the explicit text of the Torah, they never met?

A Word
When I first visited this parsha in depth for my senior sermon in rabbinical school, I perceived a yearning by Isaac for his older brother. The Torah, as usual, is tantalizingly terse. But the orientation of Isaac around his brother's naming-well seems to me to send a message: I want to feel my brother's presence. At the very least, Isaac found some way to join with his brother in the act of burying their father. If they also buried the strife between them, then perhaps the phrase that speaks of Isaac's dwelling "towards Beer-lahai-roi" hints at two elder brothers, finally, dwelling in peace together.

Prepared by Rabbi Ben Lanckton, rabbinic advisor, M.I.T. Hillel.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Chayei Sarah at MyJewishLearning.com.

Genesis 23:1-2

Now Sara's life was one hundred years and twenty years and seven years, (thus) the years of Sara's life. Sara died in Arba-Town, that is now Hevron, in the land of Canaan. Avraham set about to lament for Sara and to weep over her.

Your Torah Navigator

There are several Midrashim that give Sarah voice. They all understand that it is significant that Sarah is missing in this parsha and they assume that she must not have been part of Abraham's decision. The question that arises is did Sarah ever find out? The following Midrash addresses this issue:

The Midrash From Pirke D'Rebbe Eliezer

When Abraham returned from Mount Moriah, Satan became infuriated. He had not gotten what he desired which was to thwart the sacrifice of Abraham. What did he do? He went to Sarah and asked: "Did you hear what happened in the world?" She answered, "No." He said, "Abraham took Isaac his son and slaughtered him, offering him up on the altar as a sacrifice." Sarah began to cry, and moan the sound of three wails, which correspond to the three blasts of the shofar, and her soul burst forth from her and she died. Abraham came only to find that she had died. From where had he come? From Mount Moriah.

Your Midrash Navigator

1.Whose to blame for Sarah's death?
2. Could it have been prevented?
3. We blow the shofar on Rosh Hashanah. We read the Binding of Isaac on Rosh Hashanah. Sarah's cries correspond to the three blasts of the shofar. Why do we try to get God's attention on Rosh Hashanah with Sarah's cries?

A Word

Sarah, our mother, is a complex character. She is sharp, devoted, generous, harsh and fiercely committed to her family. She is not usually reticent. Yet, last week when her son Isaac is about to be sacrificed, Sarah's voice is not to be found. The Parsha tells us that Isaac was spared, and the Parsha ends by presenting the ancestors of Rebecca who will one day be Isaac's wife.
The next thing we know about Sarah is that she is dead. Was her death somehow related to Isaac's trial? Maybe she was already ailing and old when Abraham left in such a hurry to do the Holy One's bidding. Maybe. Maybe not.

The Midrash sees Sarah as not being included in the most fateful decision of her life. She was not chosen to be tested. Could she have lived with Abraham, knowing that at any moment he, in his devotion to God, could take away that which was most precious to her without letting her know anything?

The shofar, the cries of Sarah remind the Holy One that the tests He gives leave marks on the innocent. The trials of Abraham lead to the death of Sarah. Before we go into judgement, we remind the Holy One the flaws of perfect justice in an imperfect world. It is better to forego the test then to cause the suffering of an innocent intimate bystander. Just as no words, only her sobbing can reflect Sarah's pain, it is the mournful sound of the shofar that tries to convince the Judge, that judgement isn't worth the trouble.

We read in Parshat Vayera that the cities of Sodom and Gomorra are destroyed because their crimes are too great to correct. What is their sin? Some say it is the sin of inhospitality to other people. The parasha opens as we watch Abraham and Sarah welcome the three strangers into their tent. When the strangers come to Sodom, Lot also tries to be hospitable to them. And yet, even as Lot brings the visitors to his house, the people of Sodom come to the house in a mob. We read in Genesis 19:9:

9. (The townspeople) said, "Stand back! The fellow (Lot)," they said, "came here as an alien, and already he acts the ruler! Now we will deal worse with you (Lot) than with them (the visitors)."

Your Genesis Navigator

1. What does this verse say about how the people of Sodom view new "immigrants?"
2. How do the people of Sodom behave toward visitors?

The Mishnah of Pirke Avot (Ethics of the Fathers) denotes four categories of behavior:

Pirke Avot 5:3

He who says "What is mine is mine, and what is yours is yours" is the average type, though some say this is a quality of Sodom;
He who says "What is mine is yours, and what is yours is mine" is ignorant;
He who says "What is mine is yours, and what is yours is yours" is righteous;
He who says "What is yours is mine, and what is mine is mine" is wicked.

Your Pirke Avot Navigator

1. How can "what is mine is mine, and what is yours is yours" be either average, or a sin like Sodom, depending on how you look at it?
2. According to Pirke Avot, what category of behavior do the people of Sodom possess?
3. What does Judaism say about how we treat guests or new immigrants?
4. What is your most memorable experience as a guest or newcomer to a community?

A Word

Hachnasat orchim, or welcoming guests, is an important value in Judaism, and takes as an example Abraham's behavior at the beginning of this parasha. Interestingly though, Judaism does not have specific rules as to how to welcome people, how to be a decent host or how to behave toward newcomers to a community. Often we might resent newcomers to our community. How could they come in and take away our jobs, friends, support? And yet one of the highest ideals in Judaism is to overcome this urge to separate ourselves from others and instead to reach out toward guests or newcomers and say, in our own small way, "What's mine is yours."

Shabbat Shalom.

For more insights on this and every other parasha, please see Aryeh Ben David's wonderful book, Around the Shabbat Table: A Guide to Fulfilling and Meaningful Shabbat Table Conversations.

Prepared by Rabbi Andrea Lerner, Midwest Director of Hillel's Joseph Meyerhoff Center for Jewish Learning, University of Wisconsin, Madison

Abram is told to go on a journey. He is not told to where. He is, however, promised that he will be blessed in several ways. He goes wherever he is told. There is a famine in the land and he leaves the land and descends to Egypt. He has an adventure in Egypt and leaves, intact, with his wife and much property. He then has to arbitrate a quarrel between his shepherds and the shepherds of his nephew Lot. He is promised there that his progeny will be like the "dust of the ground". He is then told to traverse the land. Then there's a big war. Abram takes no booty and then...Abram complains to God that he has no heir, and God takes him outside and tells him, "...look toward the heavens, and count the stars. Can you count them?" At this stage Abram has yet to become Abraham.

Genesis 13:16

"I will make your seed like the dust of the ground, so that if a man were able to measure the dust of the ground, so too could your seed be measured".

Genesis 15:5

"He brought him outside and said: Pray look toward the heavens and count the stars, can you count them? And he said to him: So shall your seed be".

Your Torah Navigator

First in Chapter 13 God analogizes Abram's progeny to the dust of the ground. And in Chapter 15 he analogizes them to the stars in the sky, why such a radical switch in metaphor?

Rashi on Genesis 15:5

...It's midrashic explanations is: Give up astrological speculations, Abram indeed will not have a son, but Abraham will. Sarai will not bear a child, but Sarah will. I will give you other names and your mazel (luck) will change...

Your Rashi Navigator

1. How does Rashi's comment address our question?

The Chasidim Say

One is born with two pockets. One pocket says the world is created for me, for I am like the stars of the sky. The other one says, I am nothing but dust. When one is flying high that person should be reminded that some day s/he will be returned to dust. When one is feeling low, s/he should look into the star-pocket and realize the world was created for them.

A Word

Rashi tells us that the first metaphor of dust is there to describe the number of progeny. The second metaphor is to teach how this will be achieved. It's not in the stars for Abram, but for Abraham, it is.

The Hasidim see that we exist in tension between dust and stars, and stars and dust. This is, according to the Hasidim, what was promised to Abram, Sarai and their seed, that we as people and as individuals would experience both. This is our fate and our destiny.

This week we read Vayera, perhaps one of the most plot-driven parshiyot in the entire Torah. So many critical moments occur in this early sequence. We learn the value of welcoming the stranger when Abraham and Sarah open their tent to three traveling angels. Sarah laughs when she finds out she will bear a son at an incredible old age. God destroys Sodom and Gomorrah, despite Abraham's protests. Lastly, and perhaps most critically poignant, Abraham takes his son Isaac to be sacrificed at the altar. Even though this story - the Akeidah - receives due attention on Rosh Hashanah, leaving us to ponder the other events that occur in the parsha several weeks later, we thought that we would revisit this pivotal occasion with a slightly different twist.

God calls to Abraham, who responds "Hineini," I am here. God instructs him to bring Isaac, his only son, to Mount Moriah to be sacrificed. At this moment, Abraham faces a critical decision that has potential for impact beyond only killing his own son, as if that weren't a tragic enough act. Although the death of Isaac would mean the death of the Jewish people, Abraham stands firm in his position to obey God's commandment to him. As Rabbi Isaac of Vorki, a Chassidic rabbi of 19th-century Poland, pointed out, Abraham did not yield to the temptations of rational or emotional arguments.

Isaac of Vorki is telling us that our obligation is not to supply the world with Jews (God will worry about that), but rather to be Jews. If we focus on being Jews - our devotion to God and our tradition, whatever that means to us as individuals and communities - we will be what sustains us as a people and ensures our survival. Despite numerous attempts throughout history to eradicate the Jewish people, we have prevailed precisely because we have held strong to our tradition. As Jewish educators, we are placed daily in the position of being role models to students, exemplifying meaningful Jewish lives, as vastly different as they may be from one another. We have the power to help students lay the foundations for their own future adult Jewish lives, whether it's by modeling learning, tzedek, or Shabbat. It doesn't matter if we get 10 or 100 or even 1000 people through our doors - if what we're providing when they get there isn't an inspiring Jewish moment that reflects who we are as individuals and as a community, then continuity will never be achieved.

In the face of the drastic decisions we sometimes face in our work - whether programmatic or budgetary - it is sometimes necessary to defy rationale and logic and stand up for our integrity as educators. We must be ready to stand up and say "I am here; ready to be a Jew in this world and a role model for my community." The students are paying attention to us. They will ensure their own survival if we provide the model to inspire them.

Co-authored by Kim Silverstein, Assistant Director for Student Affairs & Sara Engesser, Ziegler Jewish Campus Service Corps Fellow of USC Hillel.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Va'yera at MyJewishLearning.com.

A pasuk from the parsha - Genesis 24:1 "And Abraham was old, advanced in days, and the Lord blessed Abraham BAKOL."

Bakol means "with everything" or "in everything." But the rabbis want to know, what is this blessing of "everything" that Abraham receives? Since it can't literally mean "every thing" - that is, Abraham will not actually possess all of reality - to what does it refer? There are four answers in the Talmud, all of which refer to Abraham's offspring.

Talmud, Baba Batra 16b
There is a teaching that Rabbi Meir says "in everything" means that he did not have a daughter. Rabbi Yehuda says that he did have a daughter, and others say that "BAKOL" was her name. There is a teaching that "in everything" refers to the fact that Esau did not rebel in his lifetime; there is another opinion that "in everything" refers to the fact that Ishmael did teshuvah, repentance, during his lifetime.

How do we understand these four possible meanings? The first two explore the absence or presence of female children in Abraham's life. Rabbi Meir seems to be saying that he was lucky to live out his life without daughters. But this statement could have one of two meanings. From a more misogynist perspective, Rabbi Meir is saying that boys are better than girls. But from a paternal perspective, Rabbi Meir could be saying that boys are less heartache for a father than girls are. It is easier, he could be suggesting, for a man to parent a male than to go through the unique challenges of raising a daughter.

Rabbi Yehuda opines that Abraham must have had a girl to go along with his boys. Without referencing it explicitly, he is assuming that Abraham must be modeling the stricter requirement, according to Hillel, with regard to childbearing: Mishnah Yevamot 6:6 - A man may not refrain from fulfilling the commandment "Be fruitful and multiply" unless he already has children. The School of Shammai ruled that he must have two sons. The School of Hillel ruled: a son and a daughter, for it is written, "Male and female He created them" (Genesis 5:2).

The fact that Rabbi Yehuda's opinion is given second, and that anonymous others come to support, demonstrate that it is the prevailing view. In this version of our sacred family history, Ishmael and Isaac had a little sister, Bakol.

But the other possibility is that "everything" refers to the behavior of Abraham's offspring, his child Ishmael and grandchild Esau. If you play out their ages at the end of this parsha and the next one, Ishmael can be understood to turn back to a righteous path before Abraham's death. (The rabbis deduce his newfound righteousness from his presence at Abraham's funeral.) Likewise, Esau does not rebel against his parents until after Abraham has died. Thus Abraham's blessing takes the form of either seeing a child return to the fold or being spared the sight of seeing one depart.

A Final Word
How are these blessings that so specifically reference a child to be called "everything"? The fact that the rabbis seized on this word to describe parental power, pride, or pathos teaches us about the importance, and vulnerability, of being a parent. For a parent, a child is not merely a human being, sacred as that is. For those of us who have the privilege of being parents, our children are, in many ways, "everything." We feel we have a unique perspective on their thoughts and feelings, hopes and dreams, as they carry our hopes and dreams forward into the next generation. The rabbis remind us in our human imperfection that, unlike the idealized Abraham, we will have children of unexpected genders and unpredictable temperaments, children and grandchildren who will rebel and abandon, surprise and disappoint. The challenge for us is to deepen our love for our "everythings" as they develop into the next link in the eternal chain that began with Avraham Avinu, Abraham our father.

Prepared by Rabbi Ben Lanckton, rabbinic advisor, M.I.T. Hillel.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Chayei Sarah at MyJewishLearning.com.

Among the many "greatest hits" of the Torah, this weekly portion is certainly worthy of its fame and the melodies put to its opening lines. Lech Lecha begins Jewish history as Avram heeds the divine call and travels "to the land that I will show you." Upon arrival in Canaan/Israel, a famine sends our hero south to Egypt, where an attempt to pass Sarai, his beloved wife, off as his sister results in their expulsion. Upon returning to Israel, Avram's nephew Lot heads down to the Jordan River Valley while Avram resides under the oaks. Lot is kidnapped and Avram pursues him halfway across today's Middle East until he is victorious. God speaks to Avram, who falls into a trance and sees a vision at the Covenant Between the Animal Pieces. Ishmael, son of Avram and Sarai's handmaid, Hagar, is born. God commands that Avram's entire household is circumcised and also instructs them to change their names to Avraham (Father of Many) and Sarah (Princess).

This action-packed portion raises hundreds of questions. Who is this Avram who lives for 75 years before God calls to him and then he follows? What is the meaning of the delightfully confusing phrase Lech Lecha, meaning "Go, go to yourself"? If Abraham is the father of our faith, the first Jew, who is this "Malchitzedek, King of Salem (Jerusalem), Priest to God, The Most High" who shows up to celebrate Lot's rescue? What is the meaning of this bizarre pact involving animals cut in half?

The rabbinic explanations and legends fill in the details that the Torah leaves out. Avram, we learn, was a smasher of the inventory in his father's idol shop. As the Torah is the story of humanity's search for God and God's search for righteous humanity, Avram is a seeker who was famed for his kindness and hospitality. Avram was chosen to be the father of our people not only because God spoke to him, but because he listened and followed the instruction.

Go, go to you. Go, go for yourself. With these words the continuing journey of Jewish history begins. Rashi explains this phrase to mean that the journey is for Avram's benefit. Travel often prevents one from achieving fame, wealth and a large family; this leap of faith will result in all three. Modern commentaries note that the first step of such a spiritual journey is to go inward and become who one is meant to be.

The Talmud (Nedarim 32b) teaches that Malchitzedek is Shem, Noah's eldest son and the ancestor of Abraham! According to the tradition, Shem was given the land of Israel as an inheritance, but Canaan, Shem's nephew, claimed it as his own instead. Abraham was moving to a new land and also reclaiming his ancestral portion at the same time. The question of how Abraham could live at the same time as his ancestor from nine generations before him is not fully resolved.

The pact and vision between the pieces remains one of the most mysterious passages in the Chumash. The simple meaning of this section is passing between severed animal parts constituted the accepted ancient method of making a covenant. This trance and vision of a smoky furnace and torch of fire come with God's promise. Avram not only receives a prophecy concerning his descendants, but he also discovers that God was with him, even before he knew God. In last week's portion we read that Avram's father took his family from Ur Kasdim to go to Canaan and settled in Haran. At the pact of the pieces God declares: "I am God who brought you out of Ur Kasdim to give you this land to inherit it" (Bereshit 15:7). Avram learns that God is his shield, and these words now form the first blessing of the Amidah. God is with us as our protector even when we do not know it.

Prepared by Rabbi Shalom Bochner, Executive Director, Santa Cruz Hillel.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Lech Lecha at MyJewishLearning.com.

The essence of Parshat Vayishlach is the transition from the story of Jacob to the story of Israel, from the narrative of an individual to the founding myth of a people, and it involves the demarcation of physical and socio-cultural borders between Israel and its neighbors.

There are two major stories in the parasha: Jacob's meeting with Esau, and the rape of Dinah and subsequent slaughter of the city of Shechem. Both of these stories are about creating boundaries—first a secure physical boundary between Israel and Edom, and second a moral-religious-cultural boundary between Israel and the surrounding peoples.

Nahum Sarna, in his commentary to Genesis, points out that Jacob's wrestling with the "angel" at the river Jabbok can be understood as part of the creation of Israel's boundary with the nation of Edom, in modern-day Jordan—the angel is understood by the midrash to be the guardian angel of Esau (father of Edom), and the river Jabbok ultimately did become the border between the nations. Thus, in their wrestling, Jacob and the angel symbolize the tussle that accompanies the creation of two nations, a tussle which had already begun in the womb. And of course it is at this moment that Jacob receives his new name, the name of the nation of which he is the progenitor, Israel.

In the story of Dinah (ch. 34), the boundary created, and violated, is less one of land than character and values. Notice the offer of Hamor and Shechem to the sons of Jacob: it is focused entirely on financial arrangements, and it makes no mention of the fact of Shechem's crime. Similarly, when Hamor and Shechem report back to their men and ask them to be circumcised, the offer is couched in the language of economics.

Jacob's sons, however, respond to their offer in moral terms: "We cannot give our sister over to an uncircumcised man," We cannot violate this religious-cultural boundary. And as readers we know that they view the whole incident in religious-moral terms, using the Hebrew root TMA ("tamei," or "ritual defilement") three times to describe what had occurred. Even if Shechem really does love Dinah, his words make clear his worldview—one based on taking in exchange for giving, which views relationships as commodities: note the number of times the Hebrew words "KCH," take, and "NTN," give, are used. Boundaries are permeable and insignificant; they are obstacles to be overcome.

The religious-cultural boundary between the sons of Israel and their neighbors is physically signified in circumcision—which Shechem willingly undertakes in order to erase it—but the religious-moral boundary is signified in the ringing rhetorical question that closes the story, "Will he make a whore out of our sister?"

And yet despite the clarity afforded by these boundaries, what pervades both stories is a tremendous sense of ambiguity. Did Esau really intend to kill Jacob? Was Shechem trying to do right by marrying Dinah? Were Shimon and Levi moral examples? Were the rest of the brothers? Who is right at the end of chapter 34: Jacob or his sons?

This final interchange in the Dinah story is particularly significant, because it pits the political reality against the moral imperative—Jacob is right, and his sons are also right. How does one decide—how does one erect boundaries of action—under those circumstances? In the case of Esau, Jacob cannot discern reality; in the case of Dinah, the facts are clear enough, but his value judgment is clouded. In both instances, inaction is an unacceptable response, but in both instances, the wrong action could lead to something even less desirable. The bounds of right action are hazy.

As perhaps they always are. Parshat Vayishlach provides one of the greatest comments of Rashi on the Torah, on the verse, "And Jacob was afraid, and it troubled him greatly" (32:8). Jacob has just learned that Esau is approaching with 400 men, and he fears the worst. Rashi, picking up on the redundancy in the verse (he was both afraid, and it troubled him greatly), makes one of the outstanding moral statements of Jewish tradition: "And he feared—that he would be killed; And it troubled him greatly—that he would kill others." This is Torah at its finest: we value the tzelem elohim, the image of God, so deeply that we can conscience neither losing our own life nor taking that of another.

To paraphrase the Mishnah Sanhedrin (4:5), the boundary separating one human being from another—twin brothers, in this instance—is non-existent, as we are all descendents of Adam, we are all created in God's image. And yet that boundary is also an unbridgeable span, because each image of God is unique, an entire world unto itself. Thus this statement of Rashi, this noblest of moral instincts, ultimately leads to paralysis: What should Jacob do? Does he assume that no boundary exists, that Esau is coming in peace? Or does he assume that the boundary is quite real, and that Esau is coming for war? He cannot know, and yet he must act. And so, the Ramban writes in his opening comment to the parasha, Jacob prepares himself with prayer (that God will protect him), diplomacy (in the offering he sends to Esau), and ultimately for war, as a last resort.

We live in a time and a world of tremendous complexity and ambiguity. If decision-making is based on an assessment of reality and a knowledge of our values, then the post-modern world is indeed paralyzed, as we can no longer trust reality (think corporate scandals, "weapons of mass destruction," even "reality TV"), and we no longer know our values. As boundaries between nations and individuals are erased and eroded, by the power of the internet or by the power of jets and tanks, the Jewish people is still engaged in its timeless quest for identity. Where do we draw our boundaries? Where do we erect our walls (and security barriers)? How much can we trust our neighbors (our twin brothers?)? And how do we retain our singularity of moral purpose in a culture of consumerism? These are the questions of Jacob, they are the questions of Israel.

Written By
Josh Feigelson, campus Rabbi and senior director for educational initiatives at Fiedler Hillel at Northwestern University.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Vayishlach at MyJewishLearning.com.